The Summer Obsession
by Precca
Summary: H/Dr return for their last year at Hogwarts, having taken summer school together. Things happened that neither want to talk about, but must eventually face. Romantic comedy about love, magic, and combination of the two!
1. Summer's End

Chapter 1

Dawn approached rapidly, or at least it seemed that way to Draco. He had been dreading this day for the past three months, and now that it was here, he still had no intention of facing it.

Beeping loudly from his bedside table, Draco's alarm clock rang on until he mustered enough of his precious strength to pick up his wand and jinx it into silence.

Even though underage wizards weren't allowed to perform magic outside of school, Draco knew that the Ministry could not tell exactly who had conjured it within a household. Plus, his dear old father had close ties with Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and would most likely use their great wealth to get his only, pure-blooded son out of a sticky situation. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy didn't mind it either, they blindly thought it was helping him to "study up" and "sharpen his skills." So, with this in mind, Draco never bothered to follow the rules, and used any magic he wished at his own bidding.

Satisfied that all was quiet once again, he pulled his covers up to his chin and turned over in bed, ready to catch a few more minutes of sleep before the awful day began.

"DRACO! WAKE UP! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR THE TRAIN!" the angry voice of a woman bellowed from below.

Now fully awake, Draco scowled and cursed under his breath as he flung his sheets off and stood up to dress. He pulled on some of the expensive Muggle clothes his mother had bought him that summer and examined his reflection in a floor-length mirror. He frowned at his platinum blond hair; it seemed to stick up rather stubbornly after he slept, so it proved to be a constant annoyance in the mornings. Licking his hand, Draco smoothed down the ornery pieces and smirked at himself.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're devilishly handsome?" he asked himself haughtily. Laughing at this, Draco gave another wry smile and latched his trunk; he had packed the night before.

Pocketing his wand, he headed downstairs at a trot and slid into one of the bar stools just as his breakfast was set down. He gave one look at the scrambled mess his mother called a breakfast and grimaced in disgust.

"Mother, you call this edible?" he complained.

"Sorry, dear, I just didn't have time. Your father and I got in late last night," she said unconcernedly, scurrying around the kitchen in a dark green bath robe. Apparently she had forgotten, since her loud exclamation earlier that is, that her son was heading off to Hogwarts that morning, because the expression of panic that usually masked her face on that day was no where in sight.

"Yeah, I noticed," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"What did you say?" her tone sharpened, but she still didn't look at her son.

"I said I'll just eat on the train." Draco doubted she had heard any of what he had said that morning, but suddenly she paid him all the attention in the world when her memory served her the events of the day.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Your train! You'll be late! Are you packed? Do you have everything ready? Are you even dressed?! Oh, your robes, where are your robes! You know you have to change on the train, don't you? And what about your father—Lucius! Where are you, Lucius?! Your only son is about to leave for school!"

She released him to search for her husband only to turn back one second later.

"Well what are you waiting for, the World Cup?! Gather your things, Draco!"

Sighing in contempt for his outlandish mother, Draco did as she said for once and went back upstairs. He met his parents on the first floor, his trunk hovering in front of him, wand outstretched above his head.

Mr. Malfoy eyed his son and smirked. "You have become a fine wizard, Draco. _Don't_ let me down your last year. We did not spend all that extra time during the holidays for nothing…"

Draco grinned proudly and shook his father's hand; Malfoy men never showed emotion through such pathetic gestures as hugs and kisses.

"Don't worry, Father. I expect many students at Hogwarts will envy me even more by the end of the year, especially Potter and his loser friends. I'll be so advanced, even that filthy little Mudblood won't be able to cheat her way past me," he sneered, sharing a shrill laugh with Lucius.

Mr. Malfoy thumped his back, "Right you are, Son! We'll see just how smart Mr. Potter and his friends are when faced with the new…_challenges_ at Hogwarts." He stared at him for a moment, then added, "Oh yes, Draco, you will be envied indeed."

"Alright, enough talk, you'll be late for your train! Now, hurry up, everyone grab your broomsticks—Lucius, tie up Draco's trunk and make sure the Invisibility Cloaks are secure! We don't want any Muggles spotting half a broomstick flying around like last year." Mrs. Malfoy barked orders, the last remark directed towards her son.

Hermione paced frantically across her room, searching desperately to find her missing text book, _Ancient Runes: Year Seven_. She remembered picking it up at Flourish and Blotts weeks ago, for you were allowed to pick your classes way in advance your last year, but now it seemed to have Apparated into thin air. Her mother walked in just as she was flinging countless books across the room from under her bed.

"Hermione, what's the matter? Lose something?" she inquired curiously.

"Something the matter? Why, no, I only lost one of the most important text books of my entire academic career!" she shrieked in distress. When given a confused look by her mother, she added, "Ancient Runes!"

"Have you tried a Summoning Charm?"

"Summoning Charm! Are you mad, Mother?! We aren't allowed to perform magic outside of school, you know that!" she yelled, moving on to her closet and sweeping the doors open.

"But the Ministry can't tell who performed it, right? _You're_ the one who told me that, 'Mione," she replied calmly.

"Well, I'm assuming they know both you and Dad are Muggles, so it would only be logical to deduce that I would be the one using magic," Hermione said, trying to remain placid under her stress.

"Have you checked your trunk?" Mrs. Granger asked, completely ignoring her daughter's last comment.

"Of _course_ I've check my trunk, Mum. If it was there I wouldn't be searching for it, would I?" She tossed aside an old set of Gilderoy Lockhart books Mrs. Weasley had given her five years ago. "AUGH! WHERE IS IT?!"

"Are you quite sure it's not in your trunk, Dear?" her mother repeated, eyeing the dark wooden object in suspicion.

"Fine, you want to be sure it's not in my trunk, then? Well, for Heaven's sake, I'll look in my trunk!" she seethed, practically tearing open the box that held all of her belongings.

There, sitting squarely on top of everything else, laid a book entitled, _Ancient Runes: Year Seven._ Hermione's expression changed instantly to one of pure joy. She turned to her mother in excitement and hugged her thankfully.

"See, us Muggles aren't so bad, are we?" Mrs. Granger joked as she returned the hug.

"Mum, of course not! You're better than those idiot pure-bloods, _the Malfoys_, that's for sure," she jibed angrily. Just saying their name made her shiver in distaste.

"Hermione, let's not get worked up again, shall we? Now, why don't you finish packing, and I'll have breakfast waiting when you get downstairs," she suggested, leaving her to it. She poked her head back in a few seconds later and said, "And hurry! The train leaves in an hour!"

"An HOUR?!" she exclaimed in shock. Hermione ran over to her clock and examined it quickly. "Oh NO! My clock was set wrong! I can't be late my last year at Hogwarts!"

With that she took off at high speed, picking up everything and anything that was left to pack, including almost locking Crookshanks, her bandy-legged cat, inside her trunk as well. After scratching up her arm quite considerably, though, Hermione realized her mistake and put him in his cat carrier instead.

The Hogwarts Express blew its warning whistle loudly as students bustled about Platform Nine and Three Quarters, all anxious to leave and bidding farewell to family members.

"Have a good trip, dear!" Mr. and Mrs. Granger almost yelled over the noise as they hugged their daughter tightly.

"Goodbye, Mum! Goodbye, Dad!" she replied. Hermione pushed her luggage trolley towards the train where she had spotted Harry and Ron, then turned back one last time, "See you at Christmas!"

"Don't forget to write!" her mother called after her with a small wave.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron called merrily when they saw her approaching, enveloping her in a group hug as soon as she reached them.

"Hello, Harry, Ron! It's so good to see you two, it feels like it's been ages, doesn't it?" she smiled back.

"Yeah, how come you never wrote us?" Ron asked indignantly. Hermione looked around shiftily and lowered her voice so only her two best friends could hear her.

"I'll tell you everything on the train," she whispered, pushing them ahead.

"But why—" Ron began. Hermione gave him a look of warning that caused him to quiet down and exchange a nervous glance with Harry, who simply shrugged.

The three of them boarded the train quickly, trunks in tow, and found an empty compartment near the mid-back that they settled into before a group of second-years squeezed past. Harry heard them muttering something to the effect of, "…yeah, that's him. I _told _you already, he's fibbing…because, you can just tell…that scar is probably a tattoo or something…"

Hermione took notice of Harry's angry expression and set her teeth determinedly, standing up and stepping into the hall right in the midst of the younger students. In her mind, she had no idea why she was doing this, but it seemed like a good idea at the time; after all, she _had_ done some changing over the summer.

"Excuse me, but would you mind relocating your absolute disdain for other's feelings somewhere else?" she stated sharply. "Harry Potter happens to be ten times the person any of you will ever be, and I for one wouldn't want the only wizard to defeat You-Know-Who as my enemy, would you?" Eyebrows raised, she stared them down heatedly.

"Well?" she prodded.

The now frightened second-years backed slowly away from her, eyeing one another is obvious nervousness.

When none of them uttered a word, Hermione added, "Then I expect you'll think twice before insulting one of my best friends!"

As soon as she turned to reenter their compartment, her body slammed suddenly into a tall boy who seemed to have been standing there the entire time, and who smelled quite extraordinary.

"Oh! Excuse—"

"Is Potty too famous to do his own dirty work now, Granger? Got you to do it for him, did he?" an icy voice mocked with a smirk. Hermione pushed herself back and stood to the fullness of her height, and since she had not entirely been expecting this encounter, her cheeks were fully flushed and eyes wide.

"No, I'm just trying to be a loyal friend, that's all—something you wouldn't know anything about, Malfoy," she snarled, voice slightly shaky.

He inched forward, his face coming dangerously close to hers.

"Oh, and I'm sure Potter is very _loyal_ indeed; especially to those who do his bidding," he whispered as a small, sinister smile played out across his lips. "Bet he gives you loads of _rewards_, too, eh Granger?"

Hermione sucked in her breath, trying to muster her courage and strength, and brought their faces even closer in an attempt to copy her enemy's threatening pose.

"Jealous, Malfoy?" she smiled, despite her fear and hatred.

For a moment, Draco's grin faltered, but he soon recovered before he thought anyone noticed and leaned back, putting a good distance between him and Hermione. A laugh erupted from him quite suddenly, as if he had just understood the meaning of her remark and thought it intensely amusing.

"You actually think I would be jealous of you and Potter? An outcast and a Mudblood! Why, that's just a lovely couple, I think you ought to—"

"Shut it, Malfoy!"

A flash of red came out of their compartment, and then Ron was beside Hermione, a look of malice spread on his face.

A deep scowl etched Draco's fair skin. "Why don't you make me, Weasel?"

"Why don't you shove off!" Harry appeared just as suddenly as Ron had, the same expression on his face as well.

Now realizing that he was outnumbered quite considerably, Malfoy smirked again and attempted one last remark before his graceful departure.

"Well, well, well, what a threesome: Potter the scar-head, Weasel the flying-impaired loner, and Granger, the filthy little Mudblood. No wonder you all became friends, no one else would be caught _dead_—"

"Mr. Malfoy, that is quite enough!" Professor McGonagall's shrill voice issued above his as she strode towards their group. "I will abstain from deducting points from Slytherin this time, but if I hear another jibe at a Gryffindor, or any other house member for that matter, I shall be left with no other choice. Now, if you all would kindly take your seats, the train is about to depart."

Without another word, the threesome went back into their compartment and sat down heavily in their respective chairs, Hermione glaring after Malfoy as he did the same. A whistle was let out as the train pulled away from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and slowly gained speed, chugging heartily along into the countryside.

"What a prat!" Ron grumbled once Harry had shut their door securely and Malfoy was well out of hearing range.

"What was he saying to you, Hermione?" Harry asked her tentatively.

She looked away with arms crossed, "It was nothing, just his usual rubbish. You heard most of it."

"One day I am going to jinx him so badly that he'll—" Harry began with clenched fists.

"Oh, Harry, don't bother with him, he's not worth it." Hermione sighed. He and Ron exchanged looks of annoyance at her predictable reply.

"Not worth it? Of course he's worth it!" they chorused, staring at her.

"Don't you get it? This is the last year we'll have to put up with him. If we've made it through six years of torment, surely we can endure one more. And besides, there's nothing to fight over anymore with Voldemort killed off and all," she noted.

Ron cringed at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, causing hermione to sock him in the arm and say, "Oh, really, Ron, it's _just_ a name!"

"Yeah, and how come people still think I'm some big liar who's making all this Voldemort stuff up?" Harry complained heatedly.

"Well, Harry, those were only second-years and I suppose they haven't been following much of what's been going on—probably just sticking to their parents' stories and such. Not everything will end now that he's gone, you know; people still won't believe," she replied.

Harry nodded quietly, his mind suddenly registering what Hermione had said only moments before—only one more year of Draco Malfoy. After seventh year was over, he would never see him again. No more taunting, jeering, laughing, or ridiculing. He would be free.

After relishing in this joyous thought, Harry realized something else—McGonagall was on the train with them. That had never happened in the six years he had gone to Hogwarts; all the teachers would arrive at the school beforehand. Tuning back in to Ron and Hermione's chatter, he decided to pose the question on his mind.

"What do you s'pose McGonagall is doing on the train?" he spouted suddenly.

The pair looked at him, ceasing their argument. Their faces had a look of enlightened curiosity on them.

"That's right!" Hermione agreed. "Normally the professors are at the school by now, I wonder why she's late?"

"Yeah, that is kind of odd, inn'it? McGonagall is always on time, I remember our first year she nicked us for being late," Ron added.

Harry nodded at Ron's comment in remembrance, and all was quiet as the three of them became absorbed in their own thoughts.

Ron was the first to come out of the daze, abruptly bringing all of their theories on the matter to a halt by asking, "So why couldn't you write us over the summer, Hermione?"

"Oh, that…erm, well it's kind of a long story, you know…might have to wait 'til tomorrow…" She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and made to grab her Ancient Runes textbook. In doing so, she did not grasp it fully, causing it to fall noisily to the ground, which then upset a dozing Crookshanks, and sent him shooting off to the top of the luggage rack where he hid, hissing angrily.

"I think your cat's got issues." Ron chuckled after Hermione had retrieved her book and opened it upon her lap. "Might want to give him some Calming Drought, actually…did Pig a world of good when O.W.L. results came in, with there being so many of us and all…"

It appeared that Hermione had not heard a word he had said, and was now deeply immersed in her new textbook. Harry gave Ron a look that said, "Now look what you've done!" and Ron gave a guilty shrug and a responsive expression that read, "Well, now what?"

"Hermione," Harry began firmly, "We still have plenty of time before we arrive at Hogwarts, so why don't you tell us what's going on before we have to make a bottle of Veritaserum on the spot."

"Harry, we both know you aren't very skilled at Potions, and besides, Veritaserum takes a full moon cycle to mature—"

"Hermione!" Ron cut her off, "Just get to it already!"

She stared at both of them for a moment, and when their gazes did not falter, she finally sighed and said, "Oh, all right!"

Stowing _Ancient Runes: Year Seven_ back on the luggage rack, she took a deep breath and started explaining.

"Well, at the beginning of the holiday things were fine and I was taking some summer classes at Hogwarts, you know, to get a head-start and all—"

"You can take summer classes at Hogwarts?" Ron questioned in disbelief. "I had no clue! And why in the world would you _want_ to—"

"Ron! Quit interrupting, I've only just started!" Hermione exclaimed in annoyance. "Anyways, so I was staying there for the month of July taking extra Arithmancy classes with Professor Vector, and—"

"Were there any other people there? Like other stu—"

"Ron, I said quit interrupting!"

He fell back against his seat and sighed in defeat, a frown on his face.

"I was about to get to that, thank you. At first, no, it was just me, Professor Vector, and the rest of the teachers who live at the castle—"

"Professors _live_ at Hogwa—"

"RON, SHUT UP!"

"Alright, alright! Blimey, keep your wands in a row!" Ron grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"_Anyway_, so it was just me and the Professors, but then—the foul, arrogant git—one Tuesday morning this _awful_ stench of someone doused way too heavily in cologne comes wafting down the corridor, and I hear this shrill, evil laugh, and I'll leave you no guesses as to who it was—"

"_Malfoy_?!" Harry and Ron exclaimed at once, eyes wide in surprise. This time Hermione did not get mad at them, but nodded vigorously.

"Yes! Can you believe it? And his mother, too! I was surprised to see her, she almost never goes anywhere with Draco…but I try to get some extra work in, and then _he_ comes along and ruins it! And it wasn't as if he were taking extra lessons in some _other_ class, oh no, it just _had_to be the same as mine! But, of course, he wasn't there to get ahead, he actually came to catch up; he was a bit behind in Arithmancy, as it were, and his parents wouldn't _dare_ let him take make-up lessons during the school year, you know, fear of ruining their precious reputations and all…"

"What happened when they came in?" Harry questioned eagerly, although still frowning in dislike.

"Well, they completely interrupted my lesson with Professor Vector by just barging in like they owned the place, and then finally quit laughing as soon as they saw me; it was like they had just heard the worst news possible, maybe even something worse than Voldemort's death!" she continued angrily.

"That one's mental, I'm telling you!" Ron griped. "A few good hexes to the head will do him some good, I reckon! Right, Harry?"

"Yeah, I've been dying to try out this new hex I found that makes the victim grow a huge rat's tail and sprout hair all over their body. Sounds like it'll fit Malfoy well, eh?"

Hermione smiled at Harry's joke and plowed on. "So after Mrs. Malfoy explained the situation to Professor Vector, which was basically her demanding that Draco be enrolled in the class, she walked right up to me, gave a defiant sneer, and whispered to her son, although she plainly knew I could hear also, 'Don't let this _filth_ corrupt your school work, Draco.'"

Harry and Ron's mouths fell open, both of them openly sputtering curses at the Malfoy family.

"How could she?!" Ron roared, standing up as if this would make him more intimidating to a non-present Mrs. Malfoy.

"Ron, that hex is staring to sound like a good—" Harry gritted his teeth.

"Boys!" Hermione yelled over them, "I told you already, they aren't worth the time."

"But—but, Hermione, they called you—" Ron began.

"I am fully aware of what they called me, Ron, but it's not as if I haven't heard it a thousand times," she interrupted him, continuing with her story. "So the whole time Malfoy had it out for me, as always, but it was as if he was keenly intent upon ruining my entire summer! Although, considering we were the only ones our age in the castle, I can see why, but still, he was very interested in keeping me away from my schoolwork and…and, well, he was just his usual, foul self. He told me that if I said one bad word about him, he'd know it because our owls were the only ones coming to and from the castle—as if he has a connection that intercepts them! Needless to say, if I had written you it would most likely be the only thing I talked about, so I was basically forced to keep quiet."

"But Hermione, you've never been afraid of Malfoy! How come you did what he said?" Harry protested, clearly baffled at her behavior.

"Well, at first I wasn't! I thought it was a bunch of rubbish, so I ignored him and attempted to write my mum, but about three days later I got an anonymous letter saying, 'I thought I told you to keep your filthy mouth shut.' Obviously it was from Malfoy, so I ignored it again."

"Why didn't you just tell Professor McGonagall?!" Ron asked her in shock.

"I'm not about to go to Professor McGonagall and tattle on Malfoy!" Hermione shouted indignantly. "Besides, like Harry said, I knew he couldn't do anything to me. Well, at first anyway."

"_At first?_" Harry and Ron said in unison.

"Well his father _was_ a Death Eater!" she nearly yelled. When given blank expressions, Hermione added, "And what do Death Eaters practice?"

"Ripping bloke's brains out?" Ron suggested.

"Lying, cheating, and blindly following the orders of a man whose soul is in seven different parts?" Harry added darkly.

"Dark Arts!" she answered for them. "And since Malfoy worships the ground he walks on, it's only natural that he would pick up a few things."

Understanding dawned upon Harry's face, "Malfoy used _Dark Magic_ on you?!"

"_Shh!_" Hermione hushed as some fourth-years walked past and shot them suspicious stares. "Not exactly. But I definitely saw him performing it in an abandoned hallway, so I know what he's capable of, and he threatened me more than once about 'talking rubbish' about his family."

"But why would Malfoy care if you talk rubbish about his dear ole' dad to your friends?" Ron said.

"I never actually found out, but I suppose it has something to do with his father being exposed for what he was, You-Know-Who getting killed, and all the Death Eaters being shipped off to Azkaban. I guess he doesn't want his family name ruined any further," she replied, a bit calmer now.

"That still doesn't explain why he would threaten you with Dark Magic," Harry noted.

"I guess because he thinks it would intimidate me more since I've seen it first hand. We all saw Neville's parents at St. Mungo's, and then that night at the Ministry…"

A silence ensued after her last remark and then Ron lit up, an idea having just come to him.

"That's why McGonagall's on the train!" he exclaimed. "To protect you, Hermione!"

"Protect me from what?" she asked in confusion.

"Malfoy, of course!" he replied. "McGonagall must know what he's been saying to you and she's not taking any chances, because she always knew his dad was a Death Eater!"

"But Ron, she also knows that Mr. Malfoy is locked up in Azkaban. There's no way he could harm me from in there and Draco wouldn't dare now that school's begun," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, who's to say he hasn't escaped? It's not as if those Dementors keep the best of eyes on them these days, and with all the magic he can do, there's no telling where he is!" Ron ranted, pacing the small area of their compartment as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Ron, if someone broke out of Azkaban, especially one of the most wanted Death Eaters who was under Lord—I mean, Voldemort's control, I think the entire magical community would be fully aware," Hermione reassured him.

"She's right, Ron, we would know. Even thought Voldemort's gone, my scar still prickles every now and then when Dark stuff is going on," Harry remarked in agreement.

"It does?" Suddenly Hermione was very interested in this last bit of information. "Has it been hurting lately?"

Harry shook his head, "No, the only time it hurt after Voldemort died was when the Death Eaters were putting up a fight against being arrested. I'm fairly certain they used over a dozen Unforgivable Curses, but the Aurors took them down easily once Lucius gave in—"

"He WHAT?" Hermione nearly shouted. "Mr. Malfoy _gave up_?"

"You mean you didn't—oh, that's right, you were away all summer!" Harry replied. "When the Aurors were recounting the arrest for _The Daily Prophet_, they said that they wouldn't have succeeded if it weren't for Lucius Malfoy calling off all the Death Eaters. It was like he had suddenly lost all hope and just…gave in."

Hermione's mouth hung open in alarm, "I can't believe it! So that's why Malfoy didn't want me cursing his family name—he was ashamed of his father!"

"Yeah! And I'll bet he's been practicing Dark Arts so he can bust his father out of jail, build back his reputation, and finish the job Voldemort left them to do!" Ron shot a triumphant finger in the air.

"Ron, that's ridiculous! A seventeen-year-old breaking his father out of Azkaban? That's highly unlikely, even from someone like Malfoy," Hermione argued.

"Actually, Hermione, that is the kind of thing Malfoy _would_ do," Harry countered, sounding quite convinced.

She pursed her lips and gave them both a dissatisfied look. "Either way, Harry, there's no way Malfoy could pull that off! I mean, just look at how many Dementors guard that place, and now that all the Death Eaters are loaded up in there, it's not as if they will just let them walk right out the door!"

"Yeah, but the Ministry's gone lax because they think all the bad is gone now that Voldemort is dead and his followers are caged. They would never expect another outbreak, because, well, what would be the use? There's no one to follow anymore, is there?"

"Well, Harry, there's..." Ron started, looking afraid.

"What, Ron?" he and Hermione prompted.

"There's you."

"Me? What do I have to do with it?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, you defeated You-Know-Who, right?" Ron continued. Harry nodded slowly, trying to understand.

"Well then it's only natural for the Death Eaters to think more highly of you. It was just you and him, and you won, you beat him, you had more _power_. They might want to break out and follow you, see if they can persuade you that the Dark side really is better and that with them, you can rule…" Ron looked away from the fixed spot out of the window he was staring at and turned his attention back to his best friend. Harry looked positively horrorstruck; if you had just walked into the compartment, your first thought would be that someone had just informed him that his parents were actually Voldemort's brother and sister.

"You think they want to follow me," he numbly stated.

"He's not saying its true, Harry, although it_ is_ an interesting thought…it actually sounds rather logical now that Ron's said it out loud," Hermione said as Ron beamed from behind her and Harry's face sank even deeper into itself. "I mean, they would be looking for another leader; evil wizards and witches like them don't just stop what they've been doing for years and turn into happy little housewives and car salesmen, do they?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying!" Ron enthused. "And who better than Harry, the one who proved he was stronger than their old leader? Honestly, the bloke's outsmarted that nutter seven times. Seven! That's more than Percy can count to on his fingers!"

While this made Harry smile, he was anything but happy. He did not fancy the thought of dozens of Death Eaters wanting to track him down and force him to lead them to complete power over the Wizarding community. Who knew what kind of evil they would make him do under the Imperius Curse?

"Blimey, and I thought I was safe now that Voldemort's gone," Harry breathed.


	2. Encounters

Chapter 2

Many hours and deep conversations later, the three-some arrived at Hogwarts and hurried off the train, eager to tuck into their Start-of-Term feast awaiting them in the Great Hall.

As Hermione got off the train and followed Harry and Ron to a nearby carriage (horses now fully seen by all three of them), she stopped in her tracks with a gasp of fear.

"Oh no!" she cried aloud. They turned back in worry and gave her questioning looks.

"I left my Ancient Runes textbook on the train! I've got to hurry—" and before she even finished her sentence Hermione was gone, running back up the train steps and down the lengthy corridor, compartments flashing by like a movie reel. Finally she reached their own room and ripped open the door, clambered onto the bench, and looked up on the luggage rack where—it was gone. She reached out and felt the shelf frantically, eyes wide with panic.

"It's not here!" she cried. "But I remember—"

Suddenly, Hermione heard the compartment door slam shut and an icy voice drawl, "Looking for this?"

She spun around so fast that she almost lost her balance, but quickly righted her footing and stepped down to the floor and right up to Draco Malfoy.

"Give it here, Malfoy," she ordered, clearly still upset and now quite irked.

He smirked at her and held the book behind his back; he had played this game countless times over the summer and found it very amusing.

"No, Granger, I don't think I will." His smile widened.

"Look, I don't have time for this right now—" She tried to make a grab for the book but he pulled it out of her reach just in time. Shooting him major daggers, Hermione crossed her arms.

"If we don't leave now the train is going to take us back to King's Cross, you know," she stated.

"No it won't. I'm Head Boy of Slytherin and according to my handbook I'm supposed to be checking all compartments to make sure everyone's out. The conductor is ordered to wait until I give him the signal," he refuted smartly, his chest puffing out along with his ego. "We could be here all night if I wanted."

Hermione looked surprised. "You got appointed Head Boy _and_ read the handbook?! I thought the only book you ever read was 'How to Be a Complete and Utter Git 365 Days of the Year'," she laughed scoffingly.

"Nice one, Granger," Draco falsely complemented. "Been practicing our comebacks, have we? Too bad I don't give a bloody hell what a Mudblood says."

Ignoring his rude remark, Hermione continued with her own comments.

"How did you get appointed anyway? It's obviously not because of your grades; a troll could do better in Arithmancy!"

Draco glowered at her, his smile now gone. "For you information, Granger, I have excellent marks in all of my classes. Plus, it doesn't hurt that I'm exceedingly handsome, charming, and all the wonderful traits of a Slytherin."

"You forgot idiotic, cold-hearted, foolish, and mentally impaired," she shot back. "Oh, and you lie and cheat your way to the top, just like your father."

Draco immediately took a threatening step forward, just like he had earlier in the day, and jabbed his wand into her ribs, eyes narrowed.

"I thought I told you to _never_ talk about my family, Mudblood; especially my father," he hissed.

"Point that thing somewhere else, Malfoy!" Hermione growled, pushing the wand away from her and stepping closer. "You don't scare me."

He snorted loudly. "Your attitude was quite different during the summer, wasn't it? Feel safer now that your ickle friends are with you?" he said as his lips curled.

"No, but I know you aren't stupid enough to try anything while there are professors around. It might make your family look even worse, couldn't it?" she replied knowingly.

"Well, there aren't any professors around now, are there Granger?" Draco smiled evilly. "No one would know if I performed the most Unforgivable Curse of all, right here, right now." He moved his wand back in front of him and raised it so it came within a foot of Hermione's nose.

"Dumbledore would know!" she replied, her voice trembling slightly as it rose an octave or so.

"Who, that old fraud? He wouldn't know if I did it right in front of him, let alone way out here at Hogsmeade," he ridiculed.

"Fine, do it then," Hermione said strongly. "But if you do, just know that everyone will find out what happened this summer."

Draco's look of malice was wiped away instantly and his eyes filled with fear and surprise as he lowered his wand slightly.

"You wouldn't be able to. You'd be dead."

"Who's to say I didn't tell anyone once I got home, Malfoy? You weren't there to keep my 'filthy mouth' shut, were you?" she smirked.

"Listen, _Mudblood_," he muttered through gritted teeth, "If you say _one word_, just one, I swear on Lord Voldemort's life that I will kill you."

"Aw, want to go visit dear 'ole Daddy in Azkaban, do you?" she pouted at him mockingly.

He turned away with a sinister laugh. "Oh, think you're so smart, Granger? Got everything about my family figured out, do you? Well, let me tell you something—my father does not tolerate being locked up in some ruddy wizard prison. Those bloody Dementors couldn't guard a house elf anyway." Another smirk came across his pale lips.

Even though he didn't say it, Hermione had a bad feeling that this meant something she didn't want to believe—Lucius Malfoy was no longer in Azkaban. And who knew, maybe the rest of the Death Eaters had escaped too.

She stared at him for a few seconds, quickly grabbed the book he held loosely in his wand-free hand, and threw open the compartment door as fast as she could before a firm grip enclosed her wrist. Her and Draco's eyes met only inches apart.

"Be a good little Mudblood and keep your mouth shut this time, ok Granger?" he sneered, clearly enjoying the fact that being so close to him made Hermione squirm in discomfort.

She ripped her arm away and tore down the hallway and back out into the starry night. Glancing to the left and right she spotted Harry and Ron's carriage just pulling out of Hogsmeade, and running even faster she jumped aboard.

"Got it," she breathed heavily, referring to her newly recovered book.

"What took you so long?" Harry questioned her.

She thought fast. "Oh, uh, I had the wrong room at first, that's all." The two boys seemed to accept her answer because they did not reply.

But she had to tell them eventually. If Lucius _was_ out of Azkaban, he would most certainly be after Harry first thing, either to recruit him or…well, she didn't want to think about it. But if he was, if Malfoy was actually telling the truth and Hermione told someone, then he would be after _her_ too. Above all of that, though, she had to keep a calm façade or she would give it away without meaning to.

"Ah, taking another year of Ancient Runes I see?" a voice beside Hermione said suddenly. She turned her head to find Professor McGonagall seated beside her, a jovial grin on her face, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Hermione seemed shocked. "Professor? I beg your pardon, but what are you doing riding with the carriages?"

"Well, I just thought I'd catch a ride with you three up to the castle instead of taking my broom," she answered. "The wind is terrible this time of night, you know." Professor McGonagall glanced up at the moonlit sky with an insightful expression and then gave Hermione another happy smile.

While it was true that Professor McGonagall knew the threesome best out of all the Hogwarts students, Hermione still had no idea why she was following _her_ around, and refused to believe that Ron's theory might actually be true.

She exchanged glances with Harry and Ron and then turned to see the first-years crossing the Black Lake. Hundreds of tiny row boats sailed soundlessly along, each illuminated by swinging lanterns like small, soft orbs. To Hermione, it looked as if all the stars in Heaven were reflecting off the dark ripples and hovering, just above the water, for those near and far to see. And for all she knew, there could have been a spell to make that happen.

Before she realized it, their carriage fell under the shadow of the castle and the four of them climbed out and entered through the large wooden doors, the Professor practically cantering down the hallway towards her seat in the Great Hall.

Once inside and settled, the start-of-term feast began and Harry and Ron tucked into their meals with vigor. Hermione tried to put food in her mouth but her mind was much too cluttered to even think about eating. She put down her fork and looked across the Great Hall, her eyes glazed and worried. For a second, they locked with a pair of steely grey ones from the Slytherin table, but instead of worry they held pride. Draco knew the control he had over her, and that scared Hermione more than any Death Eater could.

"Mwhou ookay, Whermoonie?" Ron tried to articulate through a mouthful of Treacle Tart. She threw him the same old domineering look, forcing him to swallow his food before repeating himself.

"I said, are you ok Hermione?"

"Of course. I'm—I'm just nervous, that's all," she lied.

"Nervous about what?" Harry piped up, also enjoying his own Treacle Tart.

"Well, I'm supposed to meet with McGonagall tonight to see if I got accepted as Head Girl," Hermione explained; that part was the truth.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get it!" Ron enthused. "There's really no one else to choose from."

"Yeah, you're a shoe-in, Hermione!" Harry added, also excited for his friend.

"Well…I suppose I'm alright…nothing's for sure though…" she replied with a hidden smile. _Although Draco seemed pretty sure he was Head Boy back on the train, _Hermione thought to herself._ In fact, it was as if he already knew for certain. But then again he could have been lying, he does that a lot. But I suppose he could have known, could have found out somehow with a bribe or something. I have no doubt that he weaseled his way into this! How else could someone like him get chosen as Head Boy, unless he _made_ it happen! That's probably what this whole summer school business was about—getting in a good word with all the professors and sucking up by taking extra classes! That prat! And I bet there his father isn't out of Azkaban either, that its all just a ploy to make me think about other things besides my schoolwork and being Head Girl so he can get ahead and be the top of our class! Why that little—_

And without another thought, Hermione stood up, charged over to the Slytherin table, grabbed Draco by the arm (to his and his cronies alarm), and dragged him out of the Great Hall.

As soon as the oak doors shut, Draco pushed her off of him with fury.

"Get your hands off me, Mudblood!" he snapped, stepping away from her.

"Oh belt up Malfoy, I know you're lying!" she accused the blonde-haired Slytherin.

"What are you on about, Granger?!" he yelled back, rubbing his wrist where she nearly tore it from his limb.

"Don't play dumb with me! I know it's hard for you to do anything besides that, but I mean really, I thought you would have grown out of that by now. Oh wait, that's right—you never will!" Hermione recoiled heatedly. "But then you are Head Boy now, aren't you? You're supposed to be mature, responsible, trust-worthy, and friendly for that position, right? Well, that made me wonder how you got chosen at all, and then I thought 'Oh wait, Malfoy is none of those things, so there's no way he could have _been chosen_, which means…he must have paid his way there.' Which lead me back to what I said earlier about you being just like your lying, cheating father; doing whatever it takes to get to the top, even if that means making up even more lies, particularly ones that involve some insane story about your father busting out of Azkaban and coming after me and Harry!"

Instead of the equally nasty answer she was expecting, Hermione heard a sigh escape Draco's lips as he leaned up against a wall.

"Well, you caught me Granger. You figured out my plan. I knew you would in the end, I suppose, but I thought I could get away with it. I guess you're right; I am a sorry, sad excuse for a Slytherin and I've turned out just like my father—desperate and pitiful."

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, but Hermione could not see his face for it was covered by his hands.

_Is he seriously going to cry?_ She thought in disbelief. _I don't think I've ever seen Draco Malfoy cry, actually shed real, heart-felt tears! In fact, I don't think I've even _heard_ about him crying. This has got to be another one of his ploys. Man, when will he give it a rest?!_

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Merlin, stop acting like a baby, Malfoy! That's the biggest bunch of codswallop I've ever heard!"

Draco removed his hands to reveal his face. It was evident that he had not, in fact, been crying at all, and his usual scowl had returned.

"Fine. If you don't want to believe me, see if I care. But just know Mudblood, no matter what I do or what happens, I will _always_ be above you," he sneered. With that he turned on his heel and stormed off in the direction of the Slytherin common room, his green robes billowing behind him.

_If he really is Head Boy, apparently he forgot that we're supposed to meet Professor McGonagall in her office right after the start-of-term feast. What a git. I don't know what I'm worrying about anyway, he has no qualities whatsoever that would possess Dumbledore to pick him. And Harry and Ron were right—I'm definitely a shoe-in compared to him._

Students began to flow out of the Great Hall in small herds according to their house, signaling Hermione that her interview with the professor was about to begin. She started trotting towards the Transfiguration classroom and found herself there within minutes. Knocking on the door proved fruitless; the professor was not there yet.

Hermione let herself in and walked to the front of the room where two chairs were situated around Professor McGonagall's desk, taking a seat in the nearest one.

"You're a little late, aren't you Granger?"

Without even looking, Hermione knew who it was immediately. Just hearing his voice made her mouth draw itself into a thin line and her muscles tense in preparation for a fight, whether it be one of mental wit or physical attack.

"Actually, I think I'm right on time, thank you," she replied, making it obvious that a quarrel was not something she wanted to engage in right now.

Malfoy came around from behind the door and took a seat in Professor McGonagall's thick, metal-studded, leather chair, propping his feet up on the desk. A wide grin was on his face as he stared her down. The sad truth? He looked completely at home there.

"Well, I was here before you anyway. That's really all that matters." He sighed as he plucked a tin from one of the drawers and popped it open to reveal an array of biscuits. He downed three to see what they tasted like, then shrugged and ate a few more.

"Why _are_ you here anyways? Surely you weren't a candidate for Head Girl; blimey, that'd be something, wouldn't it? You and I walking around _together_—" Draco shuddered at the thought. "But then I'm sure you'd love that, eh Granger? Probably try to get a little closer to me if you could. 'Course I don't blame you, I mean I am the most attractive bloke at this school and all—" He threw two more biscuits into his mouth and chomped contentedly, enjoying the look of discomfort that was continuously growing on Hermione's face.

Once he realized that she was not going to answer any of his questions or refute any of his accusations, Draco put down the tin of biscuits and swung over the professor's desk, landing directly in front of her, his long legs hanging over the side.

Hermione did not know why he was being so…friendly, if that's what you would call it. At least, this was as friendly as she had ever seen him, especially with her.

He stared straight at her, grinned wickedly, and said, "You fancy me, don't you?" This made her speak instantly.

"WHAT! You think I FANCY you?! Why in the world would I like some arrogant git like you! And what in the world have I done to _make_ you think that?!" she cried, standing up in his face. "I mean, honestly, there is absolutely no way, no how, not now, not ever, not here, not there, not anywhere, EVER! What is WRONG with you, Malfoy?!"

All while she ranted, he laughed. Cackled, really. Yes, it was more of a cackle. It might be considered evil, but the situation was rather different, so perhaps it was his friendly cackle. One would never know, though, since his friendly cackle had never come out of hiding before. Hermione, however, did not even think of whether or not his cackle was of the friendly persuasion. She was far too preoccupied with the tormenting thought of Draco Malfoy and his outlandish assumptions.

"Well aren't we defensive," he drawled, feeling confident that he was right (which actually wasn't that much of a change considering he _always_ thought he was right).

"Fine, would you like me to admit that I fancy you? Would you really enjoy having a _Mudblood_ like you, Malfoy?" she snarled, eyes narrowed at him.

Draco had evidently not thought of this, for his happy demeanor faded fast. Before he could say anything, though, Professor McGonagall opened the door and briskly strided to her desk, at which point Draco jumped down from it and seated himself in the chair beside Hermione. He chanced a sideways glance at her to see that she was still extremely irked at his remark, but was trying very hard to mask this emotion in front of the professor.

With a flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall closed her office door and sat down opposite the two students. She took a second to survey them from over her spectacles, and looked confused at Draco's presence.

"Mister Malfoy, I do not recall—" she began, only to be cut off by her office door being opened once again. This time Professor Snape walked through, a silver and green envelope in his hand and the same uninterested air about him. He promptly delivered the envelope to Professor McGonagall and, giving Draco the largest smile Hermione had ever seen him give (which was extremely small in comparison to a normal, non-evil person's smile), turned to leave. The wooden door shut behind him with an ominous thud.

The professor unsealed it and read quickly and efficiently, scanning every word. Finally, she muttered, "Oh. I see." She looked up at Draco, then over at Hermione.

"Well, then. Shall we begin?"


	3. Promises, Partners, and Pride

Chapter 3

"You have to LIVE with him?!" Ron shrieked loudly, not caring that the entire Gryffindor common room could hear him.

"Ron, hush!" Hermione reprimanded. She picked up the end handle of her trunk and began dragging it towards the door as Ron followed her.

Once they were near the entrance, she lowered her voice and spoke to him in a quieter tone. "Listen, I don't want to stay in a dorm with Malfoy either, but I have no choice!"

"No choice!" he shouted.

"Ron!" Hermione warned again. He looked around to see if anyone had heard him, and then plowed on.

"No choice? You could've refused to accept!" Ron replied, his voice lower but still urgent.

"Not accept the opportunity to be Head Girl? Ron, you know that's been my dream since first year; there's no way I could have said no. And honestly, would you and Harry have let me anyway?"

"Let you what?" Harry asked as he climbed through the portrait hole and came upon their quarrel.

"Hermione's got herself this bloody Head Girl job and now she has to share a dorm with MALFOY!" Ron answered. A few heads turned in their direction at his outburst, and, noticing this, Harry pushed them out to the hallway.

"Hermione, why in Merlin's name would you want to live with Malfoy?!" he questioned in shock.

"Well, before I was rudely interrupted, I would have told you that it wasn't my choice! Professor McGonagall told me that it's the school's tradition that the Head Boy and Girl stay in the same dorm, so they can 'bond' and perform their duties together. Trust me, there is no way I would being doing this for any other reason."

Harry sighed. "Well, I know you've always wanted this, so I guess we'll all just have to deal with it. I just feel awful that you'll be stuck with that prat, Hermione."

She snorted. "Me too. It will definitely be an experience, that's for sure."

Ron stared at her in disbelief while Harry gave her a sympathetic look. Silence ensued for a moment while Hermione looked around the common room sadly.

"I am going to miss this place though. Hogwarts won't be the same without our late nights by the fire."

"We'll still see you, 'Mione, you're just going down the hall," Harry reassured her. She smiled at him while waiting for Ron to say something. When he didn't, and continued to gape at her dumbly, she sighed and turned back to Harry.

"Well, I suppose you're right. I had better get going. See you in the morning," she said, unpocketing her wand from her robes. "_Locomotor trunk_!"

Her trunk immediately lifted off the ground and hovered in front of her. Before Ron could protest any further, Hermione had disappeared around the corner with her belongings gliding beside her and Crookshanks trailing at her ankles.

"I don't like this, Harry," Ron remarked, looking quite worried and angry at the same time.

"Me either, Ron, me either." The two friends exchanged looks, sighed, and climbed back through portrait hole.

Hermione finally reached the Head Boy and Girl common room, located in the West Tower. It was a solitary room, halfway between the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, appropriate because the room changed its location each year depending on who the Head Boy and Girl were. The dorm was much like the Room of Requirement, except that it did not disappear every time you were done using it, but instead remained for the duration of the school year. As it was already rather late, Hermione quietly whispered, "Mandrakes," to a portrait of a lion holding a serpent in its mouth, and it immediately swung open.

The room was decorated in the colors of each respective House, and had two curving staircases on opposite sides that led up to one female dorm and one male dorm. Looking around to see if Draco had settled in yet, she lowered her trunk to the ground and walked the length of the room. Apparently he was still out gallivanting, because neither his trunk nor him were anywhere in sight. The quietness of the room was a bit unsettling to Hermione. It was as if everyone back in the Gryffindor common room had gone to bed a bit too early and fallen asleep immediately.

_At least I won't be entirely alone, _she thought, trying to cheer herself up. _Then again, I think I would rather be alone than with Malfoy._ Sighing, Hermione raised her trunk once again and sent it ahead of her into her new room. She gasped in delight upon seeing it; the entire space was richly colored in a deep red and royal gold, the drapes and carpet the former, and the walls the latter. Her four-poster bed hangings were a combination of the two, and an intricate pattern of golden ivy was embedded into the duvet in fine silk thread. The trunk hit the ground with a thud and Hermione jumped on her bed, smiling as the soft covers surrounded her small frame and warmed her instantly. She could definitely get used to this.

Draco said a final farewell to Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, the last of which had decided that now would be the perfect time to latch herself to Draco's arm and follow him everywhere. After some persuading and bribery, though, Pansy reluctantly released him, allowing the Head Boy to retire to his own dorm. In an odd, twisted kind of way, she had acted much the same as Ron when hearing the news that he would be sharing a room with the Mudblood Granger.

"You have to LIVE with her?!" she shrieked unhappily, still attached to Draco at the elbow.

"Pansy, keep it down! We aren't at a bloody Quidditch match," Draco hissed.

"But, Drakey, you simply _can't_ live with her," she pleaded. A full, pouty lip protruded from Pansy's face while she employed her extremely effective puppy-dog eyes.

"I don't have a choice," he snarled, shrugging her off of him. "I gotta go." As quickly as he could, Draco grabbed his trunk and made for the portrait exit, but Pansy was faster without the weight of his luggage. She caught his arm right before he slipped through.

"Look Draco, I know that little Mudblood fancies you, so you had better watch yourself if you want this relationship to continue."

His expression didn't change as he finally muttered, "Whatever," and rushed out the door, leaving behind a worried Pansy.

_What relationship? Merlin, does that girl honestly think I fancy her?! She must be thicker than she looks…actually, if she gets to be too much of a pain, I can use what she said to my advantage! If she saw me and Hermione "together," then she would leave me alone and make Hermione's life hell! What a bloody brilliant plan! Why, thank you Draco, you did quite well yourself. It was nothing! But it was brilliant! Oh yes, well I suppose…_

You know someone's not right in the head when they begin to talk with themselves, and Draco was no exception. Except, he really was brilliant, that's what was wrong with him. The Sorting Hat did think of putting him in Ravenclaw, but his intentions were far too sinister to avoid Slytherin.

He turned the corner into the West Wing and approached the Head's common room, gave the password, and climbed inside. Scanning his surroundings, he was surprised to see Hermione spread out on the couch, asleep, with a textbook lying face-down on her chest.

_Does that girl ever give it a rest with the studying? I mean, honestly, we haven't even started classes yet, _Draco thought amusedly. Crookshanks spotted the stranger standing near his mistress, and instinctively advanced upon Draco; he did not look very happy about his presence.

"What do you want, cat?" he sneered at it, frowning. "Get. _Move_. I said go away, you sodding cat!" When Crookshanks only moved closer, Draco picked up his foot, fully prepared to give the ginger cat a swift kick to the ribs. Without warning, though, the half-kneazel leapt through the air and latched himself to Draco's face with his sharp claws.

"AUGH!" Draco yelled, flinging his arms wildly at Crookshanks as he attempted to pry him loose. "Get off me you bloody cat!"

Awoken by the loud noise, Hermione's eyes flew open. It was quite amusing from her standpoint—Draco was shouting curses at her usually placid cat, who, much to her amusement, had decided to fasten himself to Mr. Malfoy's fair features. She couldn't help but laugh as he ran around the room, screaming uncontrollably and flailing his arms; he looked like either a complete git or…no, he looked exactly like a complete git.

"Granger!" Draco roared as he attempted to make his way towards her. "Get your ruddy cat off me!"

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the waist, whispering soothing words to calm him. He grudgingly retracted his claws from Draco's face and curled himself in his owner's arms, hissing madly.

"You shouldn't provoke him, Malfoy," Hermione chided, smoothing down Crookshanks' wildly unkempt fur.

"_Provoke him?!_" he recoiled after wiping his marred features with a towel. "He's the one who attacked me!"

"Likely story! Crookshanks has never bothered anyone before! Although, it is _you_; I don't exactly blame him."

"Look, just keep that stupid thing away from me, got it?" he snapped. Draco grabbed his already bloody towel and clambered up to his dorm, slamming his door shut.

Giving her cat a final pat on his back, Hermione released Crookshanks, who crawled on top of the nearest armchair and settled himself beside the fire. She picked up _Ancient Runes: Year Seven_ that had been carelessly thrown aside and stowed it away with her other books. As she made her way across the room towards her staircase, she noticed that Draco's trunk was sitting at the foot of his stairs, untouched. Sighing, Hermione levitated it to his dorm and rapped lightly on the door, afraid his temper had not simmered down.

"What!" he growled. It appeared that she had been correct.

"You…erm, you forgot this." The door swung open so fast it created a slight breeze as it whipped past her head.

"Can't you leave me alone for two—oh," Draco started; he noticed his trunk and stopped midway. "I could have gotten it myself, Granger. Just because you can't do a lot of things for yourself doesn't mean the rest of us are as incompetent." A smirk curled on his lips as Hermione gritted her teeth.

"Fine. If that's how you feel, then I'm sure you can pick this up all by your competent little self." Hermione dropped her wand and Draco's trunk fell sideways on the top step, causing it to tip and tumble all the way down the stairs. Unfortunately for him, the latch came undone as it hit the stone and his belongings were flung everywhere.

"Oops! Merlin, I really am very incompetent, aren't I? I suppose I would be too dumb to help you with this, too. Well, good night then," Hermione said, with all feigned innocence. She turned on her heel and retired to her dorm, her spirits high and a smile stuck on her face.

The following morning, the Heads of Houses maneuvered through throngs of students in the Great Hall, handing out schedules and commenting on those brave enough to take advanced courses. Ron watched as Professor McGonagall walked down their aisle, passing envelopes to Seamus, Neville, Dean, and many others. Ron and Ginny, the only Weasleys left now that Fred and George were gone, sat beside Harry and Hermione, all of whom were eating breakfast with dread. Classes were to begin that day, which meant one thing—homework. Well, all except Hermione, of course—she was eating with relish.

"So how did last night go, Hermione?" Ginny questioned her with a knowing smile.

"Well, it was…interesting." She grinned back.

This whole smiling and grinning business did not sit well with Ron. He swallowed his toast and frowned.

"Did Malfoy _do_ anything to you?" Ron posed in suspicion.

"Ron, no! Of course not! I mean, he's dumb, but he's not that dumb. Crookshanks took a good chunk out of him, though!" She laughed at the memory.

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired.

Hermione recounted the incident to her friends, who responded with instantaneous roars of laughter.

"Ahem."

Their chortles died at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice along with her arrival at their table. She handed each of them their schedules, pausing when she got to Hermione's.

"Miss Granger, you will notice that I took the initiative to put you in all advanced classes. You should be able to handle this aptly, am I correct?"

Hermione beamed. "Of course, Professor! I can't wait to get started—" she answered as she tore open the envelope and read her agenda, flying across it with wide eyes. "Oh, this sounds wonderful!"

"Good! I'm sure you will do splendidly in them," McGonagall remarked in satisfaction. "And, Miss Granger, there's something else I need to discuss with you. Might I see you in my office after your Transfiguration class today?"

"Sure Professor," Hermione said uncertainly.

After the professor moved along down the table, Harry, Ron, and Ginny instinctively leaned in towards Hermione.

"Whaddaya think she meant by that?" Ron asked. Everyone exchanged looks of curiosity.

"I don't know," Hermione finally replied. "She's been wanting to talk with me a lot lately. Probably just more Head duties; they're starting soon, I think."

Over at the Slytherin table, Professor Snape was quietly and quickly handing out schedules, treating this task with as much distain as any other. Nearing Draco, he stopped briefly to address him.

"Mister Malfoy."

Draco turned in his seat and took the folded parchment, looking it over in boredom. Noticing that Snape was still standing beside him, he felt the need to say something. While thinking of some type of small talk he could utilize for the moment, he noticed something alarming on his schedule.

"I have _all_ advanced classes?!" he retorted. Apparently, he did not have to dig very deep to find something to say.

"Yes, Malfoy, I took the liberty of doing that myself. I'm sure someone with your intellect can complete these courses with ease, correct?" he drawled. Draco straightened up and closed his agate mouth.

"Yes, yes, of course. I meant that in a positive way. Advanced classes, yes, that's perfect; just what I wanted. Thank you, Professor." _Merlin, there is no way I'm going to be able to finish all the work for these classes!_ Draco thought nervously. _I'm gonna have to get some "outside help," as Granger would call it. No sense in wearing myself out trying to prove how smart I am to some worthless teacher; I already know I am smarter than half of them anyway. You don't stay dumb for too long when your entire family is involved in the Dark Arts, in fact it's quite the opposite—either you learn fast, or you get killed._

"Oh, Draco, you're so smart!" Pansy simpered, back on his arm against his will. "You know…if I get a bit behind in my own studies, I might need some tutoring, Drakey."

"Uh, yeah, tutoring. Right. I've got to get something from my room," he excused himself, rushing out the door and slinging his book bag over his shoulder. Pansy ran after him, determined not to lose him again.

"Draco, wait! What about our dinner? You told me we would try again!" she called. He sprinted ahead and dashed into a secret corridor he knew led to the West Wing. Just in case she did follow him, though, Draco jogged until he saw the portrait of the lion and serpent, then called out the password a good twenty feet away and dove into the common room as soon as it opened. He collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily, and shut his eyes.

_I am NOT going to eat dinner with Pansy—I'd rather snog a cow! Well, actually, I guess snogging Pansy would be like snogging a cow. Honestly, why must I be so bloody attractive? And why must Pansy be so obnoxious?! You'd think she'd get the message after those hexes I gave her last year…of course she didn't know it was me, she thought it was Granger…haha, stupid Pansy…_

"Running from something?"

Draco sat up in surprise, not expecting to see Hermione there.

"Or should I say, running from _someone_?" She smirked.

_That smirk could rival mine, I believe. Too bad she's a Mudblood, or I'd…wait, why am I thinking that again? Merlin, Draco, you're turning soft without Slytherins around you 24-7. This "nice" bit needs to stop before it gets out of hand._

"Sod off, Granger," he snarled, lying back down. _That's better._

"Ooo, it seems I've struck a nerve." Seeming to enjoy taunting him, Hermione moved from her spot by the fireplace and leaned over the couch, resting her head on her hands and staring down at Draco.

He opened his eyes again, sensing her presence. Draco glared back, frowned slightly, and then, surprisingly, smiled at her.

"Like getting this close to me, do you?" he said casually, propping himself up on his elbows. "Face it Granger—you fancy me." Hermione recoiled, as if bitten.

"I do not!" she cried indignantly. "You are such an arrogant git! Why do you always assume that every girl who gets within ten feet of you has some insane notion to fancy you?!"

"Because it's true. Just look at Pansy—she can't keep her hands off me! Sometimes I think I've been cursed with these good looks," Draco sighed, leaning back with his hands behind his head. He watched as an infuriated Hermione paced the floor and rambled on about how she "didn't fancy him." _Ha! Granger likes me, I know it. She tries so hard to hide it, but it's completely obvious. I really don't know why it's such a big deal either. I mean, loads of birds have liked me before and she's no different. _

"Oh, you've been cursed all right—with pride and selfishness! While it may be true that loads of girls have fancied you, almost all of them have lasted, what, a week at the most? Oh yes, Malfoy, that's a real accomplishment there!" she yelled.

"I don't see you snogging anyone, either, Granger! Where's your boyfriend, huh?" he snapped back defensively.

"Not that it's any of _your_ business, but I happen to _have_ a boyfriend, Malfoy."

This bit of information shocked Draco considerably, although he didn't show it. _Who would go out with the Mudblood? Another Mudblood? Weasel? Do they see something in her that I don't? _An odd emotion surged through him as the word "boyfriend" passed over Hermione's lips and it had nothing to do with him. If he was anyone other than Draco Malfoy, some might say he was jealous. Unfortunately, he _was_ Draco Malfoy.

"Liar," Draco snarled. With difficulty he pushed the unfamiliar emotion out of his head. "There's no way you could have a boyfriend, no one in this school is stupid enough to go out with you."

"Well obviously Harry Potter is," Hermione replied coldly, arms crossed.

Draco laughed openly, gaping at her.

"You and _Potter_?" he chuckled. "You're actually going out with that idiot Scar-Head?"

"Yes, I am," she answered, shakily trying to muster her courage. "He's the one who got your father locked up in Azkaban, so I'm quite proud of him actually."

Draco's face was burning with anger. He approached her until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"That _filth_ did_not_ get my father locked up in that sodding nuthouse by himself. It took an entire army of Aurors to do that, and even then he only got shipped off because the Dark Lord's followers gave up like the worthless scum they are," he seethed. "So don't go acting like you know everything, Granger, because you have no idea what I've done or what I'm going to do. You think everything is all perfect now that the Dark Lord is gone, do you? Well, wake up Granger! Life isn't perfect; you're a Mudblood, you should know!"

"Oh, well who's the liar now, Malfoy? One second you're pretending to cry, because _all_ you want is to be Head Boy, and the next you're acting as if that never happened!"

"And you actually believed me?" Draco scoffed. "Shows how much you know. I thought you would have figured out that was a cover. Merlin, Granger, now I know why you weren't put in Ravenclaw; you may be book smart, but you aren't people smart."

"And you are? You tried to kill your own father, Malfoy!"

Immediately after the words escaped her mouth, Hermione regretted ever saying them. That time she had crossed the line, and doing so around Draco was not a smart move.

He rushed at her and grabbed the front of her robes, pushing her up against the wall. A combination of furious anger and ice-cold bitterness shone in his eyes as he stared her down.

"I told you to NEVER repeat that!" he roared. "Listen, Mudblood, this is the third time I've had to remind you to keep quiet. The next time I won't be so lenient. Got it?"

Gasping for breath, Hermione nodded, her eyes as large as saucers. Draco tightened his grip on her, the fire leaping fiercely in his icy orbs.

"Promise to shut your mouth," he demanded.

She nodded again, closing her eyes in hopes that air would fill her lungs.

"PROMISE ME!"

"I—I promise! I promise!" Hermione shrieked.

Draco released his roommate and she crumpled to the floor.

"You know better than I why no one can know about what happened this summer, and you know it will hurt someone else besides me if you let something slip." The Slytherin's face was serious as he stared her down. He spun on his heel after a moment of silence, and Hermione looked after him as he stormed away out the portrait hole, dark green robes whipping around him as it closed shut.

Expecting to feel intense hatred, Hermione was surprised that instead she felt pity. She wanted to dislike him with every fiber of her being, but another part wanted to help him, a part she never knew she had; a part that knew he was right.

After collecting herself, though, the thoughts of helping Draco left Hermione for the time, because her first day of classes was about to begin. The only way she would be able to make it through them was if she put everything she had into each and every one; that meant no outside problems. Even while this got her straight A's, she couldn't help but feel as if Draco had been right about her. Being book smart was one thing, but with people she had always felt disadvantaged. Just look at her relationship with Ron—they had liked each other for years, but both were either too shy or too thick to do anything about it. And then there was Harry; she, of course, was not really going out with him, but simply did not want to look like a lost cause in front of Malfoy.

Grabbing her books, Hermione scrambled out the portrait and headed to her first class, being so far from prepared in her mind that she took five wrong turns and ended up on the opposite side of the castle. Thus, she arrived to her Advanced Ancient Runes class five minutes late.

"Ah, Miss Granger!" Professor Vector enthused as she burst into the room. "So glad you could join us!"

"Sorry I'm late, I—"

"No, no, don't be silly! Have a seat, we've just begun!" He beamed at her through his spectacles, gesturing at an empty seat in the front row.

She did as he instructed only to find that her neighbor was none other than Draco's permanent charm bracelet—Pansy Parkinson. Hermione loathed her maybe even more than she did Draco; it was too close to tell. Pansy shot her daggers as soon as she sat down and attempted to scoot her desk over a few inches. A stifled laugh came from somewhere behind them and Hermione turned in her chair to see the object of Pansy's affection himself, sneering defiantly like always.

_They're BOTH in here?!_ She groaned in her head. _Great. Draco Malfoy. AGAIN. Well, Ancient Runes used to be one of my favorite classes, but I guess that's ruined now. How did Draco and Pansy even get IN here anyway? A Slytherin taking an advanced class is completely unheard of! Plus, if one did, I definitely wouldn't expect it to be Malfoy or Pansy—they have the intelligence of Blast-Ended Skrewts._

"Well, now that we're all here, how about I give you a fresh assignment for the new year?" the professor announced happily. "We are going to interpret an entire runes book from the early centuries, and here's the fun part….you'll have partners!"

The class groaned in unison, but Professor Vector did not seem to notice. He began pairing students up by row, calling out names with the same smile plastered on his face. Hermione pleaded in her head: _Please don't be Malfoy, please don't be Malfoy, please don't be Malfoy, please don't be Malfoy! _As the professor came to the last pupils, Hermione realized with dread there was only one person left for her to be partnered with. Fortunately it wasn't Draco, but it was certainly no better.

"Miss Parkinson and…Miss Granger! Ah yes, perfect! Now, everyone get out your copies of _Ancient Runes: Year Seven_ and begin with Chapter One. This will be a semester-long project, so take your time and do your best!"

Vector turned and headed to his own desk, leaving the students to carry on.

Pansy looked over at Hermione with the most evil glare she had ever seen, and made no effort to move towards the Gryffindor. She seemed quite content to completely ignore her and file her silvery nails. This was going to be one long, tough semester.

The Head Girl glanced back at Draco to see who he had gotten paired with. She scowled, seeing that he was smiling and talking happily with a brown-haired girl whom Hermione assumed was another Ravenclaw. _How like Malfoy— flirting with the prettiest girl in the class. But to think he actually requested to _be_ in this class? That is not like Malfoy at all. I wonder what he's up to…_

"HEY-Granger!" Pansy nearly yelled at her, annoyed at her inattentiveness. Hermione looked at her in confusion until she realized that she had been staring at Draco.

"_Stop_ staring at my boyfriend!" she hissed under her breath.

"Boyfriend?" Hermione said back.

Pansy looked up lovingly at the Head Boy and added, "Draco, of course!" She rounded on her, suddenly serious. "Don't get any ideas, Mudblood—he's _mine_. Just because you share a room with him doesn't mean you get first dibs. Besides, he'd _never_ go for you anyway. But he is such a good boyfriend, isn't he?"

Hermione grimaced in disgust. "Yeah, he's a regular love machine." When her partner's gaze didn't waver, she continued. "Look, I'm absolutely _thrilled_ that you're in love with ferret-boy, but we've got work to do, Parkinson."

With much effort Pansy tore her eyes away from Draco and reluctantly scooted her chair closer to Hermione's.

"Fine, but if we have to work together, let's get a few things straight," she stated bitterly.

Hermione sighed. "What now?"

"I need good marks in here, Granger, or Mummy won't let me go away to Paris next year."

She stared at her blankly. "And…I would care, why?"

"My _point_ is that I'm not an unsociable bookworm like you are, thus I actually have a life, and therefore don't obsess over my work like some _weirdos_ do."

Hermione continued to watch Pansy with a bored expression. "So?"

"Blimey, I thought you were smart, Granger! I'm trying to tell you that I'm not doing any of this bloody work and _you're_ going to do it for me. Do—you—under—stand?" Pansy said as slowly as possible, acting as if Hermione were deaf and stupid.

"Oh, I understand alright," she replied, her anger rising dangerously. "But I don't think _you_ understand what it means to be partners. It means we work together on this project. It means we share the workload. It means BOTH of us do it—together!"

"And what if I refuse?" Pansy tested, her nose high in the air.

"Then I'll purposefully make us fail. I can take the hit on my marks; I'm guessing _you_ can't."

Pansy's rueful smirk faded and she glared hard at Hermione, squinting as if she were trying to see if she was telling the truth. Without another word, she retrieved her own Ancient Runes textbook from her bag and opened it to Chapter One.

"I suppose we should…divide the chapters?" the Slytherin girl asked heftily.

Hermione nodded. "I'll take the last five, you can take the first; they're usually the easiest to translate."

"Hmph!" Pansy grumbled, turning away from her partner. Silently, the two girls began their work.

The rest of Hermione's day went just as horribly. Much to her dismay, Draco had gotten himself in all advanced classes as well, meaning that she had spent the entire day under his censorious gaze. By the time Transfiguration rolled around, she was more than ready to have a nice little _chat_ with Professor McGonagall.

Once the last of the students left, which were very few considering it was an advanced course, Hermione seated herself in the plush chair she had sat in only a day ago.

"I'm sure you are wondering why you are here," McGonagall asked as she flicked her wand and her blackboard cleared itself of writing.

"Well, yes, Professor, I did. I thought it might have something to do with my duties," Hermione answered.

"Biscuit?" the smiley woman offered with a smile.

The Head Girl knew from experience that it was better to immediately accept the professor's biscuits than decline them because she would only ask again until you gave in.

Hermione took one and thanked her, chewing slowly as her favorite teacher began to talk.

"No, we are here to discuss another matter entirely, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, sitting across from her. She sighed and adjusted her glasses. "I know this may be difficult for you, but I believe it will benefit you both in the end."

"Benefit who, Professor?" Hermione questioned nervously.

"Mister Malfoy and yourself."

Hermione swallowed the last of her cookie and waited for the awful news she knew was coming.

"As you are well aware, Mister Malfoy attended some summer classes just a few short months ago. And…well, he did not do as well as I had hoped, or he had hoped for that matter. The whole purpose was to catch him up on what he had missed last year when he was…well, performing _duties_, of sorts. Are you following me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "You mean when he was trying to kill the Headmaster?"

Even though Snape had cast the deadliest Unforgivable Curse on Dumbledore the year previous, it had not killed him completely. The only way for its effect to be permanent is if the caster not only performs it with purpose, but also does so with intense emotion. We can only assume that Snape had not cast the Imperius Curse with that hatred, since the Headmaster was soon discovered not dead, but simply in a stupor caused by the spell. The Headmaster was sent to St. Mungo's for inspection after this finding, and spent the next few months under the care of several Aurors and Healers until he recovered. Now, of course, he was fully healthy and remained as Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Yes, yes, you are quite correct, Miss Granger. And as a result, he fell behind and was not able to adequately catch up by the beginning of the new term. Therefore, we have reached our problem," Professor McGonagall explained. She took another deep breath. "Draco needs a tutor."

The professor said this quickly, as if trying to lessen the sting.

Hermione's mouth dropped.

"You want me to tutor _Malfoy_?" she questioned in disbelief.

"I know this may be an inconvenience, but he really does need the best tutor in Hogwarts so he can catch up. You were my first choice, of course, but if you cannot accomplish this due to your studies, I will certainly understand; he is quite a handful as I'm sure you are aware," McGonagall replied, a look of pure desperation in her usually tired eyes.

_A 'handful' is an understatement, Professor. Ron's owl Pigwidgeon is a 'handful.' Keeping Harry sane is a 'handful.' Malfoy is more like a load of chores, plus double advanced classes, plus battling a dozen Dementors all at once, melded together in the form of a tall, annoying prat, _Hermione thought. Her eyebrows were knit together in concentration as she mulled the situation over in her mind.

"Of course, there _will_ be benefits, Miss Granger."

On that note, Hermione lifted her head and gave the professor a curious look.

"Benefits? What kind of benefits?"

"Well, your homework will have extensions as to allow extra time for tutoring, and every test Draco passes as a result of your efforts will gain Gryffindor thirty points." A small grin crossed her lips as Hermione lit up considerably.

"That sounds splendid, Professor. I'd be happy to help." Hermione smiled. "What will I be tutoring him in?"

"Arithmancy, the course he tried to complete over the summer."

The Head Girl's jovial expression faded rapidly. The past summer had not been one of Hermione's favorites, and the events that had occurred during it were ones she wished she could forget. Now all of the memories came flooding back at once, clouding her mind in an intense fog of emotion and pain.

The professor furrowed her brow quizzically. "Are you alright, Miss Granger?"

"What?" Hermione's eyes flew open and she shook her head slightly, as if trying to physically clear the tormenting recollections. "Yes, I'm fine, I was just trying to prepare myself for this year; it's going to be long and difficult, it seems!" She attempted a feeble smile, but ended up just letting out a long sigh.

"You'll be brilliant, Hermione," Professor McGonagall beamed, uncharacteristically calling her by her first name. "And remember, if you need anything at all, my door is always open, night or day."

"Thank you, Professor."

"I think that is all for now. You may leave, Miss Granger," the teacher said, resuming her usual business-like tone. Apparently, she was not going to be complaining to Professor McGonagall about her roommate anytime soon.

_Great, not only do I have to_ live_ with my mortal enemy, but now I have to help him too!_

Hermione nodded and left the classroom, her feet carrying her as fast as possible up to her dorm. She did not feel like seeing Harry, Ron, or Ginny, and most of all Malfoy, so her room was the only place she knew of where she could think without being interrupted.

She burst through the portrait hole and without looking thrust her book bag across the room, hoping it landed on the couch.

"Oi! What the—"

Hermione stopped at the unexpected noise and turned around to see Draco glaring at her angrily. Apparently it had hit its target, along with the body that lay upon it. He threw her bag off of him and onto the ground, the contents spilling out across the floor.

"What's wrong with you, Mudblood?" he scowled, stretching out with his arms over his head.

She glowered at him heatedly, knowing that his careless and lazy attitude was what had gotten them into this situation in the first place.

"Someone give you a bad grade?" Draco smirked. "It's actually their loss, because I'm sure they won't hear the end of it."

Not wanting to see Malfoy was erased from her mind as anger took over.

"Actually, Malfoy, it's your grades I have a problem with," Hermione growled.

He frowned and narrowed his eyes in confusion. "And what exactly do _my_ marks have to do with you and your pathetic existence?"

"Well, it just so happens that someone—a rather selfish, foolish someone if you ask me—didn't pass Arithmancy this summer, which means I have to tutor them until they do!" she seethed, approaching the couch he was resting on.

Draco sat up abruptly, his eyes wide. "_You_ have to tutor _me_? Who in bloody hell told you that?!"

"Professor McGonagall. She says you need the extra help and I'm the only one who can do it," Hermione grumbled, slumping into her usual seat by the fireplace.

"You? Why do I need help from anyone, let alone you?"

"Don't ask me!" she snapped. "It's your own _sodding_ fault we're in this rut anyway."

"Oh, of course it is, because evidently I requested that I have private tutoring sessions with a Mudblood!" he cried.

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly thrilled to spend more time with you than normal either."

Hermione sighed for probably the twentieth time that day and got up to gather her books that had been spread across the floor. Draco watched from his position on the couch, quite content to watch Hermione pick them up all by herself. For that she gave him a hard glare and chucked her old Arithmancy book at him. It landed heavily on his stomach, making him grunt under its weight.

"We start tomorrow, so you better study up," she commanded. Hermione stalked away with her things and went to her room, apparently intent upon keeping her distance from Draco until it was absolutely necessary.

Draco, on the other hand, had no intentions whatsoever of beginning his homework. He opened Hermione's book to a page she had marked and saw a sticky-note that read, "Tell Professor Vector that I need the next book because I've finished this one early." He rolled his eyes and flipped through a few pages, scanning the material that he was supposed to know already. Unfortunately, it all looked foreign to him.

_Blimey! This must be twice the length of my Advanced Potions book, and that's already over 1,000 pages! I'll never get though it by the end of the year, not to mention that I don't recognize anything in it. I really should have paid more attention to this junk over the summer…although I did have other things to…_concentrate_ on._

As he thumbed through the rough-edged book, Draco felt fatigue taking over his body. He yawned and set down _Arithmancy: Year Six_, allowing his eyes to slowly shut. Soon, he was completely asleep.

It was nearing midnight when a rushing sound sent Crookshanks darting away from the fire and under the coffee table. The flames under the dark green mantle leapt to twice their height and whizzed, turned a brilliant emerald, and then just as suddenly returned to their normal size.

An image came into view, revealing Lucius Malfoy's head bobbing impatiently in the flames that had resumed their orange glow.

"Draco!" he hissed as stridently as possible without getting louder than a whisper.

His son shifted in his sleep and mumbled under his breath.

"Draco! Wake UP!"

A voice broke into his dream, and Draco sat up in bewilderment. He knew that voice, but why was it here? Searching the room for the source of his awakening, he spotted a head dancing in the fireplace.

"Father?!" he almost shouted, dashing over to him.

"Quiet!" Lucius snapped. "Listen, Draco, I can only converse with you for a moment, so listen very carefully and do not speak."

He nodded in response and glanced nervously over his shoulder, then focused on his father.

"I understand that you were made Head Boy, according to our plans, so now you must work even harder to maintain your position and grades. I know you don't particularly care about your marks, but it's an important part of the plan."

Draco watched as he continued, not making a sound.

"How is Minerva holding up?" he questioned sternly.

"Oh, McGonagall? She's cooperating for now. I mean, she performed exactly as you said she would, Father. When do I need to cast—"

"SHH! Do not speak of that here!" Lucius shrieked. He cleared his throat as if to compensate for his outburst. "Hem—we do not need to discuss that now, Draco. All you need to worry about is maintaining a low-profile and keeping up with your studies, starting with those tutoring sessions with that _Granger_ girl."

Mr. Malfoy shuddered with icy contempt after speaking her name; there was nothing he hated more than wizards and witches with dirty blood. Draco wondered why his father wasn't more upset that he had to share a dorm with a Mudblood, but pushed that out of his mind when Lucius' words registered.

"What?! You actually approve of me getting tutoring from that filth?!"

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, control yourself!" his father scolded for the third time. "This is all part of the plan, as I have told you countless times now. She is the most advanced witch in her year, and I am convinced she is far too afraid of our family to bring any 'mischief' she might witness to the Headmaster's attention. You will learn from her and befriend her, or I'll take you with me on my next little outing, and this time you might not come back."

A sinister smile curled on Lucius' lips, much resembling the one his son had perfected only recently.

"But why—"

His father glared at him menacingly, as if daring him to argue.

"Fine," Draco muttered.

"Good," he said in satisfaction. "You're an intelligent, handsome young man, Draco. You should be able to become Miss Granger's 'little friend' in no time. So, that being said, I will come on the mirror I gave you a month from today at midnight to check up on your progress. Don't leave me waiting or I'll come for you in person."

Draco's curiosity overcame him as he attempted to remove all thoughts of getting cozy with Granger from his mind. He shuddered slightly, focused on what Lucius had just said, and then spoke. "Why did you come by Floo this time, anyway?"

"As if I have time to answer such foolish questions!" Mr. Malfoy snapped. Then, in a whirlwind of spinning green flames, he was gone. Draco continued to stare at the fire even after it had settled back down.

_He wants me to "befriend" Granger? Has my father gone completely MAD? There is no way I'm ever going to be her friend, not to mention the fact that she definitely won't want to be mine! I hate this stupid plan; I wish I could take over for once in my life and do things MY way, the way they're supposed to be! If my bloody father had let me do this thing by myself like I wanted, I would have been done a century ago! And now he wants me to stay quiet, learn from Granger, and make nice? What am I, a Malfoy or a Weasley?_

"Malfoy, go to BED!" Hermione shouted, emerging from her bedchamber in a disheveled nightgown. "Who in the world are you talking to?"

Draco rose off the floor and stared at his roommate, her attire causing him to choke on laughter he was holding back. He soon turned it into a cough and cleared his throat. Hermione's expression had turned into a mixture of curiosity, boredom, and sleepiness, but still held her ever-apparent annoyance.

"No one, just talking in my sleep I guess," he answered.

"Oh. Well why don't you sleep in your _bed_ instead of on the floor by the fireplace? At least that way there's a slight chance I won't be able to hear your ruddy mumblings through the five-foot-thick walls," Hermione griped, a long, drawn out yawn following it.

"You're extremely sarcastic when you're tired, did you know that?" Draco commented with a half-hearted smirk. He was obviously too tired to attempt a comeback, and began making his way up the stairs that led to his room.

"You don't say? I simply had _no_ idea! Well, then I suppose I better go write that down, shouldn't I? Oh, such _valuable_ information you store in that swelled up brain of yours! I think you should open a library and keep all of your useful knowledge in the one book it will house!" Apparently, Draco had been correct.

"Blimey, you're nasty too!" He almost smiled at how alike she was to him in that moment, but kept it put away.

"Well, _you're_ exactly the same when you're tired—a gigantic arrogant prat. Even in your sleep you were droning on about how 'handsome' and 'intelligent' you are. Please! I'm amazed you've fooled yourself for this long. Take some advice, Malfoy, and try being _normal_ for once. Who knows, you might actually land a girl who sticks around for more than a day. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed!"

"Thank Merlin," Draco said under his breath.

Usually, what Hermione had said would send him into a spectacular spiel of witty, sarcastic, and negative remarks, but now that his father had threatened him, Draco knew he _had_ to be nice. Ok, well not exactly _nice_, but perhaps if he let up on the insults a bit and just stuck to spreading rumors it would suffice. It was still appropriately Malfoy-ish and caused quite a bit of harm, yet he never had to be "mean," per say, to Hermione's face. _Not too shabby, Draco, you did well for yourself, figuring that out and all. You are most definitely NOT a Weasley. And I'll show my father, I'll show him how a real Malfoy handles things…_

The week flew by in a blur of gigantic homework loads, countless arguments, and more tutoring than Hermione thought could be crammed into the space of seven days. She was not required to tutor with him for hours upon end, but Hermione _was_ an over-achiever, and wanted Draco to succeed no matter how loathsome he could be.

Lately, though, the blond-haired Slytherin had been in a…different mood. Would you call it _happy_? A Slytherin being genuinely "happy" wasn't a common occurrence, especially if their first name was followed by Malfoy, but Draco seemed to always be smiling and joking. And not the kind of joking that pokes fun at someone, but honest, fun joking. It was beginning to make Hermione feel rather suspicious actually, and more than a little uncomfortable. Something was definitely up.

One morning after showering, Hermione was on her way to breakfast when she saw a most peculiar site. Draco was lying on the couch muttering to himself (_He always does that!_) and stroking Crookshanks, who was perched upon his stomach and purring contentedly.

"What are you doing to Crookshanks?!" Hermione yelled as she grabbed him off of Draco, cradling the cat like a baby. Her roommate sat up indignantly.

"I'm just trying to be friendly to your cat, Granger. Is that a crime now, too?" Draco sneered.

"No, I just…well, you've been acting different lately, that's all." She eyed him in suspicion, looking him over for any abnormalities. Finding none, she muttered, "Sorry."

Draco smirked at her, feeling superior. "Now, now, that's quite alright. I'll just need some sort of apology to settle this, and then we can both be on our way."

"Apology! I just said I was sorry, what more do you want?!"

"Tut, tut, Granger, no need to get angry. I was only joking," he drawled, standing up. "Well, time for breakfast, eh? How about we walk together?"

_Whoa, Draco, you're getting a little too friendly. We don't want her noticing anything too different about you, and apparently she already has. Keep it subtle!_

Hermione stared at him, shocked. "Walk with _you_ to breakfast?" She said this as if he were asking her to dance with an eight-foot-tall cave troll.

"Only joking. Really, you ought to get a sense of humor sometime." Draco laughed and grabbed his book bag, then left through the portrait hole with that unusual smile on his face.

Hermione watched him go, feeling confused and curious at the same time. She turned to see her cat staring at her. Moving towards him, she checked to make sure her roommate hadn't done any damage to him.

"What was he doing, Crookshanks?" Hermione asked the ginger cat. He twitched his tail and purred as she scratched behind his ears; he loved to be rubbed there. "Hm. I guess he was just being…nice." She paused in thinking and then stood abruptly.

"Who am I kidding! Draco being _nice_? Merlin, I've got to find out what he's up to!"

With that, she gathered her own belongings and hustled out the door after the mysterious Slytherin.


	4. Mister Nice Guy?

Hermione knew something was not right. Well, it _was_ Draco Malfoy; he had enough secrets to fill her head fit to burst. One of them had completely ruined her summer and scarred her for life. But this time it involved him actually being civil. He would attempt to carry on normal conversations with Hermione if a moment arose where they were alone, but if she ever asked him if he was "feeling alright," Draco would find a way to duck out as quickly as possible. It was almost as if he was trying to steer_ clear_ of Hermione so that they couldn't get into an argument. But if there wasn't something in it for him, there was no way he would have agreed to whatever it was he was doing or planning on doing. Obviously, it required him to be "nice" and "conversational"—but with Hermione? She couldn't think of anything that would persuade him to act kindly towards her.

She peeked around the stone wall to see Draco winding his way down a corridor towards the Great Hall. _Ok, nothing suspicious about that. He's going to breakfast._ Just as Hermione was about to leave her hiding spot to trail her roommate, an obnoxious sound permeated her hears. Once the pitch lowered, she realized it was actually a voice.

"Drakey! There you are!"

She saw Draco stop in his tracks and cringe. Well, from where she was it looked like a cringe, but she couldn't be sure. Besides, he wasn't exactly easy to read in the first place.

"Pansy, what a surprise," he said, clearly not as excited as she about this encounter. _Definitely a cringe_, Hermione concluded.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing with the Mudblood," she explained. Her expression was a mixture between a smile (happiness for seeing Draco) and a scowl (hatred of Hermione) as she came near to him.

"We're surviving," he answered.

"Soooo, about dinner, I was thinking you could take me out during the Hogsmeade trip coming up. I hear Madam Puddifoot's is having a special on their hot chocolate," Pansy purred.

"Dinner? What dinner?" Draco questioned, looking apprehensive.

"The one you said you'd take me on! Don't you remember? We talked about it at the End of Term party last year. You said you'd give us one more try!" Pansy was almost begging with him now, her pleading eyes boring into his.

"Blimey, Pansy, I was drunk! I didn't mean any of that!" he shouted, stepping away from her.

"But—but, you _said_ we could try again!" she whined.

"Yeah, and I also said that me and Potter were old chums! Get a pulse, Pansy, we're over!"

With that, he stalked away, unknowingly in the direction of Hermione's hiding spot. Pansy, now hysterical with grief, ran the opposite way with tears streaming down her face. Draco ran into Hermione before she even had time to move out of the way.

"Granger?" Draco's angry expression was replaced by a suspicious one as he stopped at the sight of her. "What are you doi—wait, were you _spying_ on me?"

"No! I was just coming down to breakfast and I…I didn't want to pass through when you were in the middle of a conversation, that's all," Hermione lied quickly.

"Oh. Well, then I guess we can walk together, after all. I was going there myself."

She had to be dreaming. _Malfoy made no snide remark or rude comment. He made no attempt to insult me. And now he wants me to walk with him to breakfast? I thought that was a joke!_

"What happened to getting a sense of humor?" she asked. "What happened to puking at the sight of a Mudblood? What happened to _you_?!"

"What are you _on_ about, Granger?" he sighed in annoyance, resuming his walk down to the Great Hall.

"Look, I know you don't think I'm 'people smart,' but I've spent enough time with you to know that you aren't acting yourself! Where are the rude remarks and jibes at my friends?" Hermione struggled to keep up with his long stride.

He smirked for the first time in a while; it felt like a relief to Draco. "Beginning to miss our arguments, eh? I didn't know you found them enjoyable."

"No!" she defended. "I'm just—"

"Worried about me? How touching." His smirk stayed in place as they rounded a corner, and Hermione jogged up to him again.

"I am _not_ worried about you, Malfoy!" she replied defiantly. "Sheesh, I guess you aren't acting differently, your attitude just took a vacation. Apparently, it's back."

"And, apparently, _you_ missed it." Draco grinned. "I always knew you egged me on just to get an opportunity to talk to me; you know, with you fancying me and all."

They were in front of the tall, oak doors that opened into the Great Hall when Hermione stopped and whirled her roommate around to face her.

"I do _not_ want to talk with you! _You're_ the one who's always egging me on, anyway! And how many times do I have to tell you that I DO NOT FANCY YOU!" she shouted, the echo of her words resounding throughout the open, high-ceilinged area.

Students on their way to breakfast stopped what they were doing and gave the pair curious looks. A few girls from Ravenclaw giggled in the corner, and two boys from Gryffindor looked positively shocked. Unfortunately for both of them, those boys happened to be Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

"What did you do to her, Malfoy?!" Ron roared as he rushed towards Draco, wand pointed straight at him. Harry followed close behind, his wand also at the ready. On instinct, the blond-haired Slytherin unpocketed his own and pushed Hermione out of his aim.

"I didn't do anything to her, Weasel!" Draco snapped. "And just what are _you_ going to do, knock me down with your stick? Is that all you could afford—a twig from the family tree instead of a real wand?"

"Why, you little—" Ron began angrily.

"Watch your tongue, Weasley!" he barked. "I'm Head Boy now, and in case your incompetent brain couldn't understand that when Granger told you, it means I can take away house points." Another sneer curled on his lips as Ron turned red from anger and embarrassment.

"That's it, I'm giving you what you've had coming for seven years!" Ron yelled, pulling up his wand again and opening his mouth to cast a spell.

"Ron, no!" Hermione shrieked, flinging herself in between the two enemies. "Malfoy, that's enough! I thought you had to go. _Now_."

Her stern look told Draco to end the fight immediately, or he'd be hearing it from her later. _You have to be nice to her, Draco. That includes not hurting her friends. Blimey! Are there NO loopholes to this deal?!_

Still seething with anger, he stalked off, but stopped suddenly in front of the entrance to the Great Hall to face the three of them. Surprisingly, he let out a small, nasty laugh. Ok, so there was one loophole.

"Interesting, Granger, I thought boyfriends were supposed to protect their women, but here I see Weasel-Breath doing a better job of it than Potter. Honestly, you should just dump Scar-Head and run straight for the pig pen!" he cackled in delight. Draco entered the Great Hall still laughing, leaving Hermione to face her two very confused friends.

"Hermione, what was Malfoy talking about?" Harry asked, a look of serious concern on his face.

"Yeah, what's all this about boyfriends?!" Ron nearly yelled, his cheeks still pink with anger.

"Well…," the Head Girl began tentatively. "I kind of…might have…you see, the thing is…"

"What is it?!" the two boys shouted impatiently.

"I told Malfoy that Harry was my boyfriend," Hermione answered in a small voice.

"YOU DID WHAT!" Ron bellowed, clearly infuriated.

"Merlin's beard! What did you do that for?!" Harry cried. The pair of them looked very displeased with the situation, which is why Hermione did not want to tell them in the first place. She had known they would react this badly. And to make matters worse, they still held the attention of everyone in the entrance hall.

Noticing that Hermione was glancing around at the on-lookers, Ron wheeled on them. "What are you staring at, you sodding gits?! The show is over, move on! I said _move on_!" he commanded. The students quickly scattered in all directions, leaving the trio alone in the hall.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized tearfully. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I didn't mean to, I didn't plan it or anything like that, it just…slipped out one night, you must believe me! Malfoy kept teasing me about being all alone and I—I just…I'm sorry."

"Hermione, do you know what this means?!" Harry responded. "It means that now we have to act like we're boyfriend and girlfriend! As in, the normal _activities_ they engage in!"

Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates; Hermione had definitely not thought about this at all. Her and Harry….? She couldn't even imagine it if she tried.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that!" She pleaded with her eyes for him to forgive her. "I honestly wasn't in my right mind that night, and Malfoy was getting to me, so I just….well, now what do we do?"

"What do you _do_? What do you do!" Ron shrieked in alarm. "You don't _do_ anything, Hermione! You can't! It would just be…well, it would just be wrong! How are you supposed to carry on a normal life while pretending to be Harry's girlfriend? It's not as if you see him that much anyway now that you're a Head and all. You'd have to give up studying time for all that pretending!"

Hermione's face lit up with hope. "That's it, Ron! I'll just have to stay away from Harry for a while, that way Malfoy will never get the chance to see us together! You're brilliant!"

Ron smiled despite his initial irritation, satisfied with himself. "Well then, that's settled. No one will get hurt, and you two don't have to pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Now there's a win-win situation."

Harry frowned. "But what if Malfoy has told people? What if half of the school knows by now that we're going out? We can't exactly avoid _everyone_."

Hermione's hope deflated like a popped balloon. "Oh no, I hope he didn't! But then, knowing Malfoy, he most likely did! And if he told that idiot, pug-faced Parkinson, word's bound to be out by this afternoon! By tomorrow, the whole of Hogwarts will think that you, Harry Potter, are dating me, Hermione Granger! Merlin, what have I done?!"

"I don't know, Hermione, but we've got to fix this somehow," Harry answered her.

"Well, if Malfoy did tell people, there's only one way to find out," she said decidedly, inclining her head towards the doors Draco had just passed through. "This school is a gossip magnet; if he told, we'll get funny stares when we go in, Harry."

He nodded in agreement. "Let's do it, then."

After heaving a great sigh, Hermione and the two boys headed into the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry beside Hermione, and Ron off to the side, still looking incredibly disgruntled.

The Head Girl held her breath to see if any urgent whispers would break out among the students, or if Lavender would suddenly fix her eyes on the pair as if they were some juicy piece of meat, but none of that happened. Lavender was apparently engulfed in some animated conversation with Parvati, and the rest of the Hogwarts students were happily devouring their breakfasts.

Hermione glanced over at Harry. "Well, I guess he didn't tell, then."

"You mean _yet_," Harry scowled.

She gave him a look. "Have some faith, Harry. He might come through for us."

He snorted loudly, taking a seat. "Since when did you become the President of the Malfoy Fan Club?"

Hermione dropped down beside him, frowning. "It's not like that, Harry; he's still a complete git in my opinion. But I _have_ been living with him since school began, and he isn't _all_ bad, you know. Malfoy has his moments. They may be few and far between, but they're there."

He narrowed his eyes at her, as if trying to see into her thoughts. "If I didn't know any better—"

"You'd what?" she cut him off sharply.

Ron and Harry exchanged glances and then lowered their heads to their food.

"Nothing," Harry said.

An awkward silence ensued for a few moments before Hermione changed the subject. "So, are you two doing anything special for the Hogsmeade trip coming up? I hear it's only a few weeks away."

"Well, I guess I'll just be hanging around with you, Hermione," Ron said a little dejectedly.

"What do you mean, Ron? Aren't you coming with us, Harry?" Hermione inquired curiously. She looked from one to the other, trying to read their expressions. The three of them were always together, even on Hogsmeade trips. Although, there were a few times when Harry had Saturday detention, Quidditch practice, or a date, but she was sure those weren't the case this time.

"He's just sore because I've got a date," Harry announced with a large grin.

"A date!" Hermione exclaimed. Apparently it _was_ the case. "With who?"

"Oh, just guess! Isn't it obvious?" Ron grumbled.

She smiled at Harry, knowing very well who it was. "Congratulations, Harry! After the incident on the pitch last year and then Professor Dumbledore's ordeal, I didn't know if you'd ever give it another chance."

"Well, now that Voldemort is dead I don't have anything stopping me. Plus, I don't think I would have been able to go on without her."

"Are you guys talking about me?"

The trio looked up to see Ginny approaching with a happy smile on her face. Harry returned it as she sat next to him on the bench.

"Why yes, yes we are," he told her. "I was telling 'Mione about our date."

"You picked a good one, Ginny!" Hermione joked laughingly.

After a few more congratulations from Hermione, and moans of protest from Ron, the four dug heartily into their meals.

Draco drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for Hermione in the Head common room. She had tutoring with him that night after dinner, but still hadn't shown up by six thirty.

He knew that after the morning's incident that she'd be angry, but standing him up hardly seemed like her method of revenge. Funny, the words "standing up" seemed like something he'd say if he was on a date. After chuckling slightly at the absurdity of the idea, he sighed and glanced at the door impatiently.

_Ok, just because I insulted her friend after being nice for a while doesn't mean she can just ignore me for the rest of my life! I have to do well in this class, and I can't do that without her. I especially can't do that without her speaking to me either. I did my best, Father, but this is getting to be too much. Being nice is not in my vocabulary, and now I'm chucking it out the window where it belongs! Malfoys have never complied to orders before, and I for one am not about to start now. _

Suddenly, the portrait hole burst open and a frazzled-looking Hermione tumbled in, followed by a load roar emitting from the lion in the picture; evidently he did not enjoy being flung open very much.

"Finally!" Draco exclaimed, standing up. "You're a half-hour late, Granger, and I've got other things to do besides chatting it up with you and your precious books." He inwardly smiled at how good it felt being himself again.

She placed her books on the table and sat down heavily, not making eye contact with him. Pulling out her Arithmancy textbook, Hermione began to read the chapters that had been assigned for homework.

Draco stared at her in irritation. "So that's it then, you're just not going to talk to me?"

Hermione turned a page and sighed, still ignoring him.

"Come on, I know you can't ignore me forever. I was nice enough, wasn't I?"

She glanced up and threw him a dirty look that seemed to say, "No, you really weren't, and yes, I _can_ ignore you forever." Then she was immersed in her book again.

The Slytherin scowled and cursed under his breath. "This is ridiculous! If you are going to be an immature, stupid little Mudblood, then I'm going to go fetch McGonagall and let her know you're _refusing_ to tutor me like you agreed."

That got her attention. Draco watched as she fought an internal battle of whether to break her vow of silence, or to remain defiant. She also had an incredibly bothersome pet peeve of students calling the professors by their last names, which Draco knew and used to his full advantage. Hermione stared at him, her chocolaty eyes narrowed and locked with his steely grey ones.

"Alright, if that's how you feel, Granger, I'll go and get her now—" Draco said in mock disappointment as he walked towards the door.

The Head Girl bit her lip nervously while her roommate inched closer and closer to the exit. _I can't take this any longer!_

"Wait!"

Draco turned around, eyebrows quirked. He waited for her to speak again.

She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. "Have you read Chapter Eight yet?"

He smirked. "Talking to me again? I was beginning to think you had gone mute for life, which, I must admit, _would_ have been nice…" Draco mocked as he sat down and kicked his legs up on the table.

"Don't push it or I just might," Hermione threatened. "You didn't answer me."

"Yes, yes, I read the chapter. But even if I didn't, I would have had plenty of time while I was waiting for your sorry butt to show up."

"Well, for your information, my sorry butt was…with my boyfriend. Even you can relate to that," she said.

_WHY did I just say that?! You're digging yourself deeper, Hermione! Plus Harry told you not to bring that up again in hopes that Malfoy would forget! _That part _was_ true; she _was_ digging herself deeper, because what she had just said was a complete lie. Hermione had not been with Harry at all (who wasn't even her boyfriend, although Malfoy believed so), but in the library studying for an exam coming up. She was so absorbed in her work that she had lost track of time, and thus had shown up late. But being late because she was studying didn't sound like much of a good excuse, not to mention it would ruin her reputation as a prompt student, and telling Draco this would get him off her back about the whole "fancying" him thing. In all honesty, it was two lies in one; Harry was not her boyfriend, and she had not been with anyone that could constitute as her boyfriend. She hated lying. And she hated that she hated lying. And just as an added bonus, Draco's happy demeanor had disappeared, replaced with his trademark smirk and rude remarks. This was just not her day.

"Tut, tut, Granger, I didn't think you were the type to prioritize snogging over studying," Draco drawled amusedly. "Especially with Potter! I mean, honestly, if you're going to throw your morals down the drain, at least do it with someone who's worth it! He didn't even protect you this morning, for Merlin's sake."

"I am _not_ throwing my morals down the drain! And Harry was too protecting me, Ron just got to you first! I never said I 'did' anything with him either, and even if I did, you're one to talk, Mister Snogs-Every-Girl-In-Sight!" Hermione defended in one breath. "And who exactly _would_ be worth it, Malfoy?"

"Me, of course." He watched with entertainment as her face contorted with rage.

"YOU? I wouldn't be caught _dead_ snogging you! I would rather—I would rather snog Parkinson!" She made a retching noise at the mere thought of it.

Draco snorted. "That can be arranged. It would get her off my back, actually."

She glared at him, teeth set. "And _I_ can arrange for the Giant Squid to get a nice lunch tomorrow!"

"Ok, ok, calm down, Granger, it was only a joke. Didn't I tell you to get a sense of humor?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and checked the clock. "Look, we're already behind forty-five minutes, and I'd rather not waste any more time bickering with you about something that won't ever happen."

"Granger, I'm hurt! I thought our love was meant to be!" Draco nastily joked. "Although, we could never have children; I wouldn't want my pure blood to be tainted with your muddled filth."

"As if I would even want to!" Hermione yelled. "Did you not hear me this morning when I practically told the whole hallway that I _don't_ fancy you? And did you also miss the part where I said I had a boyfriend?!" _WHY do I keep bringing that up?! Harry is going to wring my neck if Malfoy leaks!_

"There's no need to pretend you don't like sharing a room with me and being in my presence all the time. It's alright, you can admit it. It's perfectly natural, after all. There's no shame in this, Granger, just getting what you want." A seductive (if that's what you would call it) smile spread across his pale lips. "Isn't it time you got what _you_ wanted for a change?"

"Yes, it is time I got what I wanted, Malfoy!" she exclaimed gleefully, as if agreeing with him. Then her face turned dark. "And I want you to shut up so we can finish this tutoring before I fall asleep or die of old age. You know, whichever comes first."

"You're such a wet blanket, Granger."

"Can we just do this, please?"

"Do what?"

"Your _bloody_ tutoring."

"Oh, I thought you were referring to something else—" Draco smirked.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Malfoy."

"Well at least I'm not chucking my study habits out the window for some loser with a _lightning bolt_ plastered on his forehead."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, because what you have on _your_ arm is so much more attractive."

She saw her roommate visibly tense up, his lips quivering slightly as if he were about to retaliate, but he said nothing. Breaking the eye contact he had with her, Draco leaned down and brought out the old Arithmancy book Hermione had lent him, opening to the chapter he was supposed to have read. In truth, he hadn't even bothered because he knew his "tutor" would just re-teach him the information anyway. _She really is getting me back for this morning; that almost sounded like something a Slytherin would say. Not to me, of course, but still._

Noting his abrupt switch into homework mode, Hermione smiled despite herself; she had finally beat Draco at his own game of bantering. Although she would never admit it, the feeling was much better than earning that A+ on her Transfiguration essay that had just been returned. In fact, it almost made her feel like boasting, but Hermione knew better than to entice the blond-haired Slytherin any further. Plus, he did look rather dejected at his obvious loss, and there was no doubt that he had caught a glimpse of her defiant grin.

Clearing her throat, Hermione spoke after the moment of silence. "So, did you read the chapter I assigned?"

_No, I didn't read the sodding chapter "you assigned." I was too busy steering clear of my father, Pansy, and the rest of the Dream Team. I also have ALL advanced classes, if you didn't notice, and they aren't exactly a walk in the park._

As if listening in on his thoughts, Hermione said, "I have an entire schedule of advanced classes too, Malfoy, and you don't see me slacking on assignments, especially one's that I've already failed!"

"I didn't fail! I just wasn't there half of the time, so I couldn't get the assignments that were due," Draco defended.

"And whose fault was that? The Bloody Baron's?" Hermione lashed.

"You know darn well whose fault it was, Granger, but we can't do anything to change the past, now can we? So drop it before my father shows up again."

Hermione's eyes softened in remembrance of the summer, the hatred for Draco decreasing as her thoughts absorbed her. True, it was one that she would rather not re-live, but it also had one main ingredient that made it semi-bearable. Malfoy had…well, he had saved her life. Something she never would have imagined possible seven years ago, but it had happened. Draco, of course, refused to acknowledge it had ever occurred (he certainly didn't want anyone knowing he had saved the life of a lowly _Mudblood_), but Hermione knew that he still thought about it from time to time. The events that had caused Draco to save her in the first place, though, cast a dark shadow on the nostalgic memory. Shaking the pain out of her mind, Hermione focused on the book in front of her.

"So, Chapter Eight. Did you read it? Because if you didn't, we're going to have to go back through Chapters Six and Seven to recap since there's a lot of new information in this chapter. I don't want you to forget everything before the test next Monday."

_She's giving me TESTS?! _Draco sighed; it was going to be a long night.

A few weeks later, once everyone had gotten accustomed to their schedules and daily routine, a notice went up on the common room boards one night announcing the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Almost everyone was excited to attend this weekend excursion, too; well, everyone except Hermione and Draco. They had known, of course, that it was coming up soon, as it did every year in early October. What they did not know was that they had a job to do. So accordingly, it surprised them to see that, along with the normal time and date of the trip, the duties for Head Boy and Girl were also listed at the bottom of their notice. These newfound guidelines did not suit the Heads one bit.

"The _one_ weekend I have the chance to stay away from you, and now it's ruined!" Draco grumbled. "This is all _your_ fault, Granger."

"My fault?!" Hermione wheeled on him, turning away from the letter that she had been studying. "How is this my fault?"

"Because, if you didn't fancy me so much it wouldn't be so unbearable. But if were, say, indifferent about the whole thing, then I might be able to tolerate your presence."

Hermione grunted. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I'd rather walk around with antlers growing out of my head than do rounds with you."

Twirling his wand between his fingers, he smirked and replied, "That can be arranged."

She gave him a scathing look and returned to reading the tasks they had been assigned. Giving a deep sigh, she plopped down into the nearest armchair.

"Well, there go my plans."

"Plans? You have plans? Merlin, Granger, and I thought you lived under a rock!" Draco mocked laughingly. She rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.

"I'm amazed that you can think at all, what with your huge ego crowding that small space upstairs and all."

"Well at least I make up for it by being exceedingly handsome." He grinned.

"Gee, have I made my point?" Hermione snipped. "And not that _you_ would care, but yes, I did have plans; Harry, Ron, and I were going to hit the Three Broomsticks and then Fred and George's shop."

"You were right for once, Granger," he laughed. "I don't care. Although I do find it odd that you weren't going to spend it with the Pot Head. No doubt you'd take advantage of your time together." Draco smirked and examined the bed of his nails.

"No, we wouldn't, and _Harry_ is…well, he had his own plans this time. We don't have to be together all the time, you know. We do have actual lives," Hermione said irritably.

"You don't say?!" he drawled expressively. "Well, I'm going to _love_ his reaction when he finds out you're going to be stuck with me all day. He might even blow a gasket, which, I must admit, would be highly entertaining. I've seen him come close sometimes, but we've always been interrupted."

"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm going to tell him when you _aren't_ there, just so he _won't_ blow a gasket."

He frowned. "You're such a kill-joy."

Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored him, her mind somewhere else. She now had the daunting task of telling Ron that he would have to face a weekend in Hogsmeade all alone. And once he figured out that she was ditching him for a day with Malfoy, she doubted Ron would be able to contain himself. Hermione knew there would probably be a few days of bitter silence between them as well; Ron usually did that when he was angry. She pushed the unhappy thought out of her mind to think about later. Getting Malfoy under control tomorrow was a much more pressing matter.

"Listen, we're gonna have to be together the whole time, so we had better be able to get along by then or McGonagall will have our heads—no pun intended. She doesn't exactly like public displays of un-affection, you know."

"Well there's a likely story," he snorted unconcernedly.

"Malfoy, I'm being serious!" she replied, steadily getting louder as her panic increased; she had a funny feeling he would not be thrilled to comply with her plans. "If you don't behave, you could lose your position and so could I! Unlike you, I actually care about what my professors think of me."

"Speak for yourself, Granger! You're the one who's always all over me—if you keep your hands to yourself we ought to be fine."

"Keep _my hands_—? Agh! You insufferable prat! I hope your next jinx backfires!" she yelled, storming up to her room and slamming the door.

"What a sodding drama queen. They really should pick more emotionally stable people for this job," Draco complained out loud.

"I heard that, M-Malfoy!" Hermione shouted from her room. It sounded to him like she was crying.

"Gee, have I made my point?" he said in a high-pitched voice resembling Hermione's. Crookshanks slunk out from underneath the couch and glared at Draco, his fur standing up on his back. He looked over at the cat in suspicion and climbed the stairs to his own dorm quickly, not wanting his face mauled again any time soon. The cat was right behind him until he shut his door in its face.

_Why does that cat keep following me? It's like he enjoys making me wonder when I'll be attacked next. I wish I could just chuck him out the window and watch Granger sob over his dead little body. That might entertain me for, oh, about five minutes. What a boring school, I mean there aren't even any hot girls here. I wish _something_ exciting would happen for once besides Granger crying like a faucet. Merlin, why Potter likes her is beyond me; she may be smart, but she's so emotional! It's like PMS 24-7 with her. Although, I suppose she does have nice eyes…wait, nice eyes, Draco?! Why were you thinking about her nice eyes?_ His thoughts jerked him to his senses as he realized this. _Was I honestly just fantasizing about Hermione Granger?_

A loud knock came to his door suddenly, sending him flying off his bed in surprise and onto the floor. Once he got up, Draco pulled the handle and tensed when he saw Hermione standing there.

"W-What do you want?" he said, attempting to sneer but failing miserably. _What is wrong with me?_

Hermione voiced his own thoughts. "What's wrong with you? Looks like you've seen a ghost. Well, then again, I guess it was just your reflection." She held a straight face, indicating to Draco that she was in no mood to banter insults. He also noticed that she showed no signs of having been crying only minutes before. Either she was a pro with make-up, or he had been mistaken.

"Nothing's wrong. Now either tell me why you're here or go away."

"Tutoring, remember?" Hermione sighed heavily.

"Oh. Right," he answered dumbly. Having completely forgotten about his extra lessons with his fellow Head that night, Draco shut the door in her face and scrambled to gather his books. He returned out of breath and met an even angrier looking Hermione on the other side of the threshold.

"Look, let's just do this and get it over with," she said evenly. "I have a ton of homework to do afterwards, so no smart-aleck responses or stupid remarks, got it?"

"Whatever." He followed her downstairs and piled his schoolwork on the large table by the fire. Without asking any questions, Draco got out his work and began taking notes on the new chapter, just as Hermione had instructed countless times before.

Meanwhile, Hermione tried to concentrate on taking down notes of her own so she could test her pupil the next day, but something kept drawing her eyes back to the fair-skinned boy in front of her.

After the conversation a few weeks ago, Draco had caused her mind to dwell more than usual on his "rescue." Normally, Hermione would only think of it occasionally and allow herself to briefly reminisce in the moment; the only instance in which she was not a Mudblood to him. But soon after doing so, Draco would undoubtedly do or say something that brought her out of her reverie. Like she had said before, Malfoy had his moments. They might have been few and far between, but they were there. Unfortunately for him (and consequently, her too), his bad deeds far outweighed the good, putting a stop to any fantasies Hermione might have had about Draco changing in the future.

She sighed audibly, but it didn't disturb the student who was diligently taking notes across from her. His hand moved swiftly across the parchment, moving fluently and creating flourishes at the end of each sentence. Hermione watched it with interest at first, and then her eyes wandered up his arm, noticing how the vivid blond hairs bristled with his movements. Her chocolaty orbs came to his neck, the muscles in it straining and tightening as he concentrated intently, and then settled on Draco's face. His brow was furrowed in thought, his mouth drawn into a tight line, almost like a pout, and his icy grey eyes flew quickly back and forth across his book. The pale skin that looked as if it would be cold to the touch was taught across his chiseled jawbone, and his silvery hair fell gracefully into his eyes. She had never seen him so focused on homework before, or focused on it at all, for that matter. Evidently he wanted to be here just as much as she. But how she wished she could have been that book…

_I just wished _what_, now? _Hermione thought, surprised at herself. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to clear the (oddly intriguing) images from it._ What in the world am I thinking? Did I actually want to be a book just because Malfoy was staring at it? Who would want to have that prat stare at them with those cold, deceitful eyes? I guess _I _did…but why? The only time he was ever kind to me was on that one night…_

And she was back to the dark forest once again, just yards from the outer gates of Azkaban. She hated to relive this moment, but reveled in it at the same time. One second Draco was a torrent of fury and malice, and the next he was flying towards her on his broom, sweeping her into his arms and taking her to safety. The beginning was obviously the part she hated, and she usually sped through it quickly as it replayed in her mind; all she wanted was the end, the safe haven of his arms. Of course, in reality, Draco's arms were probably the last place she would be safe, but she enjoyed making herself believe that he actually cared about her at one time, that _someone _out there cared about her.

"Finished," Draco declared, looking up from his parchment that was now over twelve inches long. He glanced down at Hermione's notes and donned a smug smile; she hadn't written more than two lines.

Hermione blinked and left her memories behind as he broke the silence.

"Great, um, good, let's start going over it then," she mumbled, willing herself not to look at him again. She was afraid Draco would be able to see what she was feeling and then taunt her about it, ruining the perfect moment that she dwelt on. She brought his parchment to her side of the table and read through it quickly, taking in everything.

"I think you copied this down wrong," Hermione pointed out, her finger resting on an equation.

Draco frowned. "No I didn't. Let me see."

He scooted his chair towards her so they could both examine the parchment at the same time. His eyes went back and forth from the book to his notes, the same frown etched on his face.

"No, I copied it correctly." Draco reached out his hand to show her where the confusion had occurred, while Hermione did the same to explain how he was wrong.

"No, you didn't, right here—"

"See, this is where—"

Their hands touched for a fraction of a second as they met on the equation. Hermione let out a small, inaudible gasp and pulled back her arm, staring at Draco with wide eyes. Now that she had finally looked at him, she couldn't tear her eyes away. Draco swiftly brought his own hand down into his lap. He stared right back, unnaturally drawn to her deep brown eyes. What was in them? Fear? Hatred? Draco couldn't figure it out; the emotions were too mixed to decipher.

He had a brief flash in his mind of a misty night, Hermione half conscious in his arms, and the two of them riding his broom at top speeds through the cool, black air. Was that really the last time he had touched her? That was just for self-preservation, though, nothing more. Draco didn't want some stupid Muggle couple tracking him down because their darling daughter had been mysteriously killed in his presence. It would have been another complication he didn't need, so he took his chances by stepping in. Yes, his father had been a little more than angry when Draco just swept in and interrupted the…_discussion_ Hermione and himself had been having, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. If Lucius came after the two of them once they were back at Hogwarts, people would obviously realize he was not in Azkaban anymore. Absolutely no one could be suspicious, or his plan would be ruined. So for the time being, he let them go. Nothing had ever been the same after that night. Rescuing someone, Draco guessed, had more of an effect than he had anticipated. Of course he _never_ brought it up with anyone, and refused to let Hermione speak of that night or of his father, afraid that it would somehow spread and make its way back to Lucius. If his father had yet another reason to be angry with him, he certainly wouldn't hesitate to make a visit. And with the lingering threat on Draco's very life, the Head Boy was fairly sure that it would be his last.

"You're right," Hermione blurted out, turning away from him. "It's fine. It looks like you know it all, so I'm going to bed."

She stood up, grabbed her unfinished notes and book bag, and hurried to the other side of the common room, bounding up the stairs and into her room. Draco watched in silence until her door closed with a resounding, metallic thud.

_Well that was an eventful tutoring session_, Draco thought sourly. Oddly enough, he didn't know whether to be angry with himself for even thinking about _that_ again, or angry with Hermione for getting herself into the situation in the first place. _If only she had kept her bloody nose out of someone else's business for once…_


	5. Hogsmeade Conversations

"Wake UP, Malfoy!"

Draco gave a loud grunt and rolled over on his side.

"Oh, honestly, you don't need _that_ much beauty sleep! We're going to be late!"

Hermione stood at the side of his bed, hands on her hips, contemplating what to do. It was the morning of the first Hogsmeade trip, and Professor McGonagall had made it expressively clear that the two Heads were to be down in front of the Great Hall a half-hour before everyone else. Unfortunately, the Professor hadn't taken into account that they were dealing with Draco Malfoy.

She pursed her lips and looked around his room, which much resembled her own except for the color palate. Spotting a dark green velvet arm chair that looked exceedingly warm and inviting, Hermione came to the conclusion that she had two choices. She would either sit in that chair and wait for him to wake up, which would no doubt make them extremely late, or she would push him out of his bed and drag him down to breakfast. After barely a second of thought, Hermione approached Draco's sleeping form (which she had to admit looked rather attractive, seeing him all peaceful like that), grabbed a fistful of blankets that were coiled around his body, and yanked hard. In one swift movement, her roommate fell off his bed and tumbled into a heap on the floor. After flinging his arms around wildly trying to find an opening in the mass of blankets and sheets, Draco tousled head emerged. To put it simply, he looked furious.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?!" he began angrily. Upon seeing Hermione standing there sheepishly (for she only just realized that Draco was not wearing anything but his silky boxers), his face softened slightly in confusion. "Granger? What are _you_ doing here?"

"I—I, uh, I was just, well—oh, would you put a _shirt_ on!" Hermione pleaded irritably, glancing from Draco's bare chest to the floor and back again, as if hoping it would magically be covered the next time she peeked. Even though she was currently staring at the floor, Hermione knew he had a rather large smirk on his face. This only made her blush more.

"Bit too much for you, Granger?" he chuckled, moving to find a shirt. Draco purposefully chose to pass by her on the left, which was consequently the side with the least amount of space between her and the bed post. He turned his pale but toned chest towards Hermione as he slid through the gap, just grazing her shoulder as he did so. He smiled wider as she tensed at the contact and gave an involuntary shiver.

Hermione continued to glare at the floor, focusing on a knot in the wooden floorboards. She waited while Draco got dressed, and did not dare look up until he proved to her it was safe.

"Better?"

She gave a fleeting look at a dark grey sweater and, finding that she was now free of the disturbing images that were trying to push their way into her mind, she brought her head up fully.

"Much," Hermione answered. Then her no-nonsense tone returned immediately. "Now let's go eat, we're going to be late if we don't hurry."

"_We_?" Draco frowned. "What's all this talk about 'we'?"

The Head Girl sighed and began making her way down to the common room, a disgruntled Slytherin trailing behind her.

"Honestly, Malfoy, can you even _read_?" she sighed, rolling her eyes.

Draco scowled. "I can read just fine, thank you. Now what's this about 'we'?"

The pair reached the Head bulletin board, and Hermione jabbed a finger at the Hogsmeade notice that had been posted over a week ago.

He squinted his eyes at the parchment and read aloud, "'The Head Boy and Girl must eat breakfast together on the morning of the first Hogsmeade outing. This will instill good commutative skills and build positive camaraderie between the two Heads, as well as provide an excellent example on how to improve house unity.' Rubbish! Where does that old hag _get_ _off_?!"

"Relax! It's not the end of the world, but it _will_ be if we're late! Now, _come on_!" Hermione shouted. She tugged on his firm arm relentlessly until Draco gave her a scathing look, brushed off her hand, and walked ahead of her. She rolled her eyes behind his back. _Always full of it, that one_, Hermione chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

The Head Boy and Girl reached the Great Hall before the majority of the school, but, of course, they couldn't just _walk in_ together. Hermione still had to deal with Draco Malfoy, after all.

"Look, just because this nonsensical rule has been forced upon us doesn't mean that I'm going to walk around with you at school, go to meals with you, and be your little buddy. Blimey, I'm not a Mudblood, you know," Draco said dryly.

"Fine," Hermione replied, teeth gritted. "Why don't _you_ go ahead then, and I'll wait for a few minutes like I'm in Kindergarten!" She had a fake, toothy grin plastered on her face as she said this.

Draco sneered at her. "Alright then, how about I try that whole "Ladies First" bit, eh? How does that sound, your Highness?"

Hermione snorted. "Ha! I'm surprised you even know about that. In your household I was expecting it to be "Egotistical Gits First". Course, then you would never get anywhere, considering your whole family—"

"Just go, Granger!" he snapped. And then, the most astonishing thing of all, Draco held the door open for her. Draco had his head down, leaning it against his outstretched arm, and his eyes were closed. Hermione stared at him for a few moments before realizing that she was supposed to walk through the door he was holding, but she remained motionless before him. In simpler terms, Hermione was dumbfounded.

Draco sighed and glanced up, also surprised that she was still there.

"What?" he snarled. "Can you not hear?"

With wide eyes, Hermione glided through the Great Hall in a daze and found a seat at the almost deserted Slytherin table. Since Draco had compromised for her, the least she could do was allow him to eat with his friends.

Blaise Zabini, one of Draco's fellow "Muggle-Haters," eyed her suspiciously as she sat down slowly, Draco following with an irritated reluctance.

"Oi, Malfoy, what's _that _doing here?" Blaise questioned, making it sound like it was his fault that Hermione was there.

Draco stuck his fork into a stack of pancakes and decided not to answer him, stuffing a large bite into his mouth to make it apparent. Hermione took a small nibble of hers, a hole suddenly filling her stomach; she was not entirely comfortable sitting across from someone who called her a "that." In fact, she wasn't really comfortable being at the Slytherin table at all, especially since more students had begun filing in for breakfast. Blaise shrugged and returned to his own meal, but not before giving Hermione a look that clearly told her she was not welcome. _It's not as if I _want_ to be here, you prat. Apparently, Malfoy does not find your company all that stimulating this morning, either_, she thought smugly.

The rest of the meal went by in silence, aside from the snide remarks that Draco's friends whispered loud enough to be heard by Hermione, which was, undoubtedly, what they wanted. But the two Heads ignored the chatter and focused on eating as quickly as possible so they could make their meeting with Professor McGonagall. The idea that they were supposed to set a "good example" for house unity did not even cross their minds, and, even if it did, it was safe to bet they wouldn't have made any effort.

Draco got up from the table and strode to the exit, allowing Hermione only a second to catch up.

"Ah, there you are!" Professor McGonagall cheered as they pushed through the doors to the Great Hall. "Wonderful, let's get to it then, shall we?"

She handed the Head Boy and Girl respective pieces of parchment on which was listed the duties they were to complete by the end of the day.

"Now, as you can see, you are to make rounds once every hour, sweeping the perimeter of Hogsmeade. The rest of the time I would like you to spend together, bonding and promoting our wonderful house unity!" McGonagall stated the last part a little sarcastically. Hermione had a sneaky suspicion that this particular Head Duty had not been instated by her favorite teacher. She glanced over at Draco to see if he had noticed, but he was unconcernedly staring at a tapestry directly behind the professor.

"You will be allowed an hour for lunch at approximately twelve o'clock sharp. The last hour before we return to school, however, you may do as you please. Lastly, as breakfast commences, I would like you to assist Argus in taking attendance, and then lead the first-years on the journey over."

Hermione nodded and smiled at her. "Of course, Professor. Is there anything else you'd like us to do?"

Draco gave her an annoyed glare. _Oh, suck UP, why don't you?_

"Yes—have fun!" McGonagall clapped. Before she walked off, she turned back and drew close to their faces, her eyes narrowed. "But don't forget, I _will_ be watching you."

They watched as their teacher skipped into the Great Hall, each wearing an expression of confusion.

"Did you notice anything odd about Professor McGonagall just now?" Hermione asked the Slytherin beside her.

"You mean she was acting battier than usual? I thought she was always this annoying. At least, that's how I remember her," Draco replied, sounding slightly uneasy. She stared at him for a moment, noticing a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. He seemed oddly nervous, and it appeared that he was trying desperately to cover it up. Hermione chose to ignore his behavior for the moment.

"Yes, she was rather chipper, don't you think? I mean, more than usual," she explained.

"How the heck am I supposed to know when McGonagall is feeling _chipper_?" Draco scowled angrily. "Why would I even _care_, anyway?"

Hermione's expression became cold. "You're right, you wouldn't. You don't care for anyone but yourself. You never have. And you know, one day you're going to regret that. One day, you're going to be all alone, and then the only person you _can_ care for will be yourself."

He threw his head back and let out a moan, followed by a loud exclamation of, "Blimey, what are you, a soap opera?!"

Students that were headed to breakfast once again turned their attention to the pair in the center of the entrance hall. Hermione threw her hand over Draco's mouth immediately after his outburst and dragged him to a side hallway. He soon after pushed her away and plopped down onto a bench.

"Do you _enjoy_ making a fool of yourself?" Hermione hissed.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't have to if _you_ weren't such a sodding drama queen!" he roared.

"I'm only a 'drama queen' because you provoke me!"

"Maybe I wouldn't provoke you if you kept your yap shut!"

"Well, maybe I'd keep my yap shut if you weren't such an insufferable git!"

Draco stood abruptly, making Hermione take a step back until she was up against the wall. He closed the gap between their faces, stopping only inches from her.

"Is this it, Granger? Is this why I'm such an insufferable git? Because you can't stand not having me?" He smirked, his icy eyes boring into her brown ones. Hermione stood tall and stared right back, feeling unusually brave.

"If I couldn't stand it, Malfoy, I wouldn't be able to stand here without kissing you."

He moved closer. "Or maybe you're just good at controlling your emotions. So good, in fact, that you've forgotten how to feel for me at all."

"Now who's the soap opera," Hermione said, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Ah ha! I've caught you red-handed!"

The two Heads snapped their heads to the opening at the end of the hall and saw a scruffy old man limping towards them. Draco pushed off from the wall and cursed under his breath.

"Thought you could have a little alone time under old Flichies nose, eh?" the caretaker questioned them accusingly.

"No! No, Mr. Filch, that's not it at all, I was actually just trying to…to fix Malfoy's robes," Hermione scrambled for words, eyes wide with innocence. "He's always getting them wrinkled, you see."

After giving his room mate a fleeting look that said "I can't believe that's all you came up with!" Draco played along.

"Yeah, I never iron them like Granger does, even though she always offers. I don't see a point in it, but she insisted on fixing them."

Hermione had to admit that he was a very good liar when he needed to be. _Probably gets it from his father_, she thought.

"Ha! Like I'm going to buy that story! Fixing robes! Apparently, you've forgotten that someone else saw what you were _really_ doing!" Filch laughed evilly. He paused for dramatic effect, and then pushed his robes to aside to reveal Mrs. Norris, his faithful, red-eyed cat. "She told me what happened! And to think such scoundrels were made Heads! Filth! Rubbish!"

"Mr. Filch, honestly, we weren't doing anything! Mrs. Norris must have seen someone else! You can ask anyone, Malfoy and I hate each other's guts!" Hermione pleaded. She glanced back and fourth between Filch and Draco, looking for some escape from the punishment she knew was coming. Draco said nothing, and instead stared apprehensively at Mrs. Norris.

Harry and Ginny suddenly passed by the hall, talking animatedly as they did so. This caught Hermione's attention immediately.

"Harry!" she called frantically. "Harry, Ginny!"

They stopped, spotted her, and started walking towards her. At first they were smiling, but as soon as Draco came into view and they realized that Filch was the man who had his back to them, both had deeply set scowls on their faces.

"What—what are you doing?" Filch asked in surprise.

"I'm going to prove it to you!" the Head Girl bellowed. She turned her attention to Harry and Ginny. "Tell him, Harry, Gin—don't I hate Malfoy?"

Ginny laughed. "Of course. Who doesn't hate him?"

Harry glared at the Slytherin in contempt, and then looked at Filch. "That's an understatement."

Draco's nose flared in anger. "Trust me, Potter, she's no feather in my cap either."

"See, it's a mutual hatred!" Hermione said.

"But Mrs. Norris knows what she saw!" Filch cried in frustration; he hated being wrong almost as much as he hated the students of Hogwarts. "She saw you two performing acts that are not meant for the public!"

"Oh, no, Mr. Filch, that wasn't Hermione and Malfoy, that was me and Harry!" Ginny piped up to cover for her friend. Hermione was torn for a moment between relief and concern; she didn't want to get in trouble, but she didn't want her best friends to be punished either. She settled on giving Ginny a thankful smile, who nodded back.

Draco's eyes widened at this bit of news, his interest piqued. _So Mr. Perfect is cheating on the Mudblood with the Weasley girl! Merlin, this really is a soap opera!_ He glanced at Harry to see if he was upset. After all, his secret lover had just revealed them both in front of his girlfriend. But Harry didn't seem phased. Actually, it looked as if he was _agreeing_ with Ginny.

"We were just one hallway down," she continued. "It was an honest mistake, especially for a cat. She probably just told you it was a boy and girl, right?"

Filch's mouth was trembling as he struggled to form words. "No! She knew who it was…but—but, she…well, fine! Then you two—come with me!"

The utterly confused Slytherin and rattled Gryffindor watched as the caretaker took Harry and Ginny by the arm and led them out of the hallway, all the while muttering things like, "Rotten, disrespectful lot, all of them! This school is going down the drain….poor, poor Dolores…wish she hadn't left…could've done _wonders_ with this place…"

After her friends and the caretaker were gone, Hermione sat down with a heavy sigh. She looked up at Draco, expecting to see anger spread across his face, and was surprised to find that he was smiling from ear to ear.

"What are you so happy about? We almost lost our positions! Does that not have any effect on you?" she wailed.

"Granger, for someone who claims to be dating Potter, you weren't too displeased to find out that he was cheating on you," Draco noted, trying not to sound too interested in the matter. He started messing with a loose pebble on the floor to avoid her gaze.

Hermione faltered; she had not thought of that. When Ginny had covered for her, even though she and Draco weren't _doing_ anything anyway, she honestly didn't even think about the fake relationship she was supposed to be having with Harry. But she understood what Malfoy was saying. He thought that Ginny and Harry had something going on, which they did, but to him they weren't supposed to because Harry was going out with Hermione, or so she told him. Confusing? Maybe. A complete and utter mess? Definitely.

"Oh, that…well, I just…I knew, actually," she stuttered uncertainly, twisting her hair in nervousness.

Draco looked up from the floor and eyed her. "You _knew_? And you don't care?"

"Well, no, not particularly," Hermione confirmed for him, a plan forming in her mind. "We aren't together anymore. That day I came to tutoring late, it was because Harry and I were fighting over the whole Ginny thing. I found out about them and broke it off."

The Slytherin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'm impressed, Granger. I always thought he'd be the one to dump _you_. And you handled it rather well; usually the girls I dump get all emotional and sob for hours."

Her mouth formed a thin line. "Thank you so much for your support, Malfoy. A real charmer, you are. Oh, and FYI, those were tears of joy."

He chuckled lightly, finding amusement in her distress. "You're getting better at those comebacks, you know."

"I learned from the best," Hermione commented, suddenly smirking.

Somehow, in a way even unknown to herself, Draco was making her feel…well, better. Considerably better. Maybe it was just the fact that he was finding so much entertainment in the situation, or that he was genuinely smiling and laughing for once, but something about him was making Hermione grin like a giddy school-girl.

"Yano, Malfoy, you're…," she began with a smile, but stopped when she realized what she was about to say. _Were you just going to tell Malfoy that he wasn't THAT BAD?! Hermione, you've gone off your rocker! I guess it's just the nerves wearing off from almost getting chucked from my job…yeah, that's it, just nerves. I think I need to get out of this hallway. Right now._

"I'm what?" the Head Boy prodded with intrigue. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "I think I need some air. Let's go see if Filch has gotten back yet."

Still eyeing her curiously, Draco followed the dazed Head Girl down the corridor and out into the entrance hall. She looked around, not finding the caretaker anywhere. Unfortunately, she found someone else instead.

"Hermione!" an angry voice called from across the room.

Turning around to see who it was, Hermione caught a glimpse of fiery red hair coming her way. _Oh no—Ron!_

As he neared her and Draco, Ron gave the latter a look of pure hatred, and grabbed Hermione's upper arm to lead her away from him.

"Ron, let go! What's wrong with you?" she yelled.

"I just heard that you've been _doing stuff_ with Malfoy in some deserted corridor!" he hissed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, you know that's not true, Filch just made a mistake."

"Then why did Ginny just tell me she had to _cover_ for you?" he replied, his ears steadily growing redder.

"_Because_," she snarled, now just as angry as her friend, "Filch wouldn't believe us and I didn't want to lose my job. Ginny and Harry did me a favor by telling him it was them, okay? Besides, I wouldn't do anything with Malfoy anyway, you know that!"

Ron's fists clenched tighter and then loosened as her words sunk in. His face fell into a guilty frown.

"I know you wouldn't, 'Mione. I'm sorry," he apologized. "Its just that that stupid, arrogant prat gets me so riled up, I could just—just—!"

Hermione placed a comforting arm on his shoulder. "It's alright, Ron, I know how irksome he can be, trust me. But I can take care of myself, you know. Really, I don't want you worrying about me anymore."

"But, he—"

"Ron, just trust me, please," she assured, locking eyes with him.

He grinned at this and nodded. "Just promise to tell me if anything happens?"

"I promise." Hermione smiled back, but dropped it suddenly when she remembered that she still had to tell her best friend about the Hogsmeade trip.

Ron's brow furrowed at her expression of apprehension. "What? What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Well…there's still one more thing I need to tell you," she said quietly, looking everywhere except his face. He waited for her to continue.

"I…I won't be able to go with you on the trip today."

"Why not?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Well, McGonagall's making me do rounds with…Malfoy," Hermione mumbled.

"But I'll be all alone!" he shrieked. Ron caught himself and sighed audibly, trying very hard to keep his anger on the inside this time, considering he just simmered down from his last outbreak.

"You aren't very mad, are you?" she questioned anxiously.

After a moment, he gave a half-hearted smile. "No, I understand. I don't like it that much, but I know you love this Head thing and I don't want you to lose it just because you can't come with me."

She hugged him suddenly, so grateful there were no words to express it except a "Thank you." Hermione's eyes shone happily as Ron grinned back and returned the hug.

"Don't forget your promise, Hermione!" he called with a small wave and a sad smile. Ron was disappointed, there was no doubt about that, but he knew that Hermione needed a friend more than an enemy right now, and he wasn't about to lose her as one over some stupid Head duty. It was strictly professional, anyway, right?

"Attention scoundrel—I mean students! Attention students!" Filch barked so that his scruffy voice reverberated throughout the hall. Hermione and Draco stood silently by his side, both looking quite annoyed that they had to converse with the man who had almost gotten them canned a few moments before.

"Hogsmeade travelers, make a line! I said, MAKE A LINE!" he shouted, causing the wandering students to merge into a uniform queue.

"Rotten filth…" he muttered to himself before yelling loudly once more. "Now, as soon as I clear you, git going! No permission form, no trip! And most importantly, no excuses! Now _move_!"

The line began to move rather quickly as the caretaker and the Head Boy and Girl checked people out and sent them on their way. Soon, the last few stragglers (who got a fierce reprimand from Filch for being "filthy squanderers of his time") made their way out of Hogwarts, and Draco and Hermione called the patiently waiting group of first-years to attention.

The little herd moved swiftly in the bright morning sunshine, Hermione leading the group and Draco bringing up the rear (to which he objected stubbornly until Hermione reminded him that whoever was in the back didn't have round the students up at the end of the trip). Smiling from ear to ear, the Head Girl acted as sort of a tour guide, telling the young students where to go once in Hogsmeade, as well as the history of the town. Draco heard bits and pieces of her speech, scowling at the cheerful mood she kept, but focused mainly on keeping at least five feet between himself and the last student in the group._ I feel like a bloody babysitter_, he moaned to himself. _At least Granger is more than willing to do most of this stuff, which means that I don't have to pay the slightest attention to these mouth-breathing kids. Even so, she really does need to get out more._

"Well, here we are!" Hermione announced, causing Draco to look up at her in surprise; they had gotten there faster than he realized. The Head Girl clasped her hands together in delight and gave a bright smile to the first-years.

"Now, you are free to do as you please until you wish to return to Hogwarts. You need to be back by six, so be sure to start heading to the castle around five forty-five. Mister Malfoy and I will be on patrol for most of the trip, as well as the house prefects, so please try to stay out of trouble," she instructed, sounding much like Professor McGonagall.

Draco rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking and then stepped up beside her, putting on a devious smile for the young students.

"Don't forget—first-years get the worst punishments of all if they break the rules. Dumbledore doesn't take anything lightly when it comes to a first offense," he told them in a quiet but foreshadowing tone. "One time, he threw a student into the Black Lake and _no one ever saw him_ _again_."

The eleven-year-olds stared at Draco with wide, fear-filled eyes, exchanging looks between one another nervously. Now it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. She smacked the back of Draco's head and flashed him a look of disapproval.

"That's not true!" she chastised. "He's just kidding you guys; don't pay any attention to him. _Professor_ Dumbledore distributes discipline evenly among grade levels; he never likes things to be unfair."

The first-years seemed to relax a bit at this, some of them giving Draco hard glares of distrust.

"Now, off you go! Have fun everyone!" Hermione dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

The group scattered in various directions and Draco started off with them, heading in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. Hermione hurried to catch up, frustrated with him for lying and then running off.

"You shouldn't have done that, you know. You scared those poor kids!" she said pointedly, her cheeks flushed from the wind whipping around them.

Draco laughed while continuing towards the restaurant with long strides. "That's exactly why I did it. They'll believe anything. Even _I_ wasn't that thick my first year here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that _you_ knew everything when you first arrived," Hermione replied sarcastically. "And since they will believe anything, we need to make sure that we set the right example as Heads. I know you don't think so, but they really do look up to us."

He scowled loudly, "Here we go again! Give it a rest with the lectures, will you? I'm a Head, I got this far, and I don't need you telling me what that means all the time. If I was really that lousy at it, either I would've gotten sacked already, or you would have reported me. Since neither of those has happened, I'm guessing I'm doing just fine. So thanks for the input, but I'd rather navigate this job by myself, if you don't mind."

"Malfoy, would you stop being so arrogant?" Hermione growled in annoyance. "You don't get it, do you? There are two Heads for a reason. If they thought one could do the job, then you or I wouldn't be here. We're supposed to be partners in this. We're supposed to help each other and bring the school together. It's _not_ a one-man show, you're _not_ the center of the universe, and you're most definitely _not_ the main attraction at Hogwarts. Maybe if you would accept pointers now and then with some grace and dignity then this could work, and that's all I'm trying to do; I'm trying to make this work. The only problem is, you keep fighting me."

Before they got too close to the bustling hub of Hogsmeade where they could create yet another scene, Draco stopped and turned to face Hermione.

"And what exactly do you want me to do, Granger? Let you take over and make it a one-_woman_ show? Because that's not going to happen! And I'm not going to become all buddy-buddy with you just because some batty old man told me to! Who needs school unity, anyway? We've gone decades without it and things have been fine, so I'm not going to start busting my butt to 'make this work' and 'bring the school together.' And do you want to know why? Because I _don't care_! This _school_ means nothing to me, _graduating_ means nothing to me, this _job_ means nothing to me, and _you_ mean nothing to me! I'm sick of pretending to care about things and people that just get in the way. All I want is to get out of here and do something different than my fathe—" Draco paused, stopping short his thought. Then he finished in a small, far away voice. "Well, I just want to do something different. _Be_ something different."

Hermione's lip quivered as she tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. She hadn't missed the "I don't care about you" part.

"Fine," her own small voice answered. "Go do something different then, because you obviously don't want to be with me or help me. You're a selfish, cruel person, and if you really do want to _be_ something different, then try caring for once and see where that gets you."

She promptly turned on her heel and walked quickly in the opposite direction, her arms wrapped around her waist as if she needed them there to keep herself together. Hermione could not hold back the tears any longer, so she let them flow freely, long streams of them pouring down her cheeks. He made her feel like nothing all the time, so why was this any different? Why she cared, she didn't know, but the hurt was real. It was as if one of her own family members had disowned her, thrown her out. But it was just Malfoy, someone who had only shown compassion towards her at one single moment in his life. Why did he matter all of a sudden? Although she couldn't answer that with a sound mind now, Hermione knew why deep down. But even if she wasn't crying uncontrollably or speeding through a thousand thoughts in her mind, it would take a long time to come to terms with.

Draco did not follow her.

"Another Firewhiskey, sir?"

Draco looked up from the now empty mug in front of him, thrusting it aside with the two others that he had drunk. He sighed loudly and nodded.

"Yeah, another," he told Madame Rosmerta.

She eyed him warily, appraising his current status. "Are you quite sure?"

His expression turned stony. "Yes, I'm _quite_ sure. Another one!"

Shrugging, Madame Rosmerta disappeared beneath the counter and emerged with another mug of the sloshing, dark red liquid.

"Looks like you got the last one there, sir. We only get a small shipment in every few months; I don't like serving the stuff because it's so strong."

"Did I _ask_ for your life story? No, I don't believe I did! Now go away while I try to drown my sorrows in this pathetically shallow drink," Draco exclaimed, throwing out his arms in a wild gesture.

Madame Rosmerta rolled her eyes and walked to another customer, fairly certain that Mister Malfoy was giving the purveyors of the Three Broomsticks a wonderful example of what Firewhiskey does to oneself.

"I think I've made my point," she mumbled to herself.

"And why are these glasses so small?!" Draco slurred loudly, earning him some curious looks and hidden snickers. "I mean, honestly, people drink more than this in one swig! I bet you people are just trying to make more money off of us poor, unsuspecting patrons who only want to forget for a while, aren't you? Well, not everyone is that rich, you know!" He chuckled at his joke and hiccupped, making him laugh even more. "Wait…wait, I am! I'm very rich! Do you _know_ how rich I am? I could buy this whole joint and turn it into a place that only serves Firewhiskey! Hey, that's not a bad idea…"

Taking another long swig of his drink, Draco slammed the glass down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Once he took a moment to look around, he realized that everyone was staring at him. This only made him angrier.

"What are you gits staring at?!" he snapped, standing up with clenched fists. "Think this is funny, do you? Let's all watch the drunk Head Boy throw a fit and then laugh about it behind his back! Well, let me tell you something—this isn't a free show! I deserve better than this! You, all of you, you're all just filth! Why should you matter to me, anyway? This is an outrage! You—Madame Rosie, kick all of them out! And I don't care if the Firewhiskey is out because you only 'ordered' so much, I want more! I'll even pay you to get some; I've got two hundred Galleons with me right now!"

At that moment, while everyone was gaping at the ranting Slytherin who was now standing on top of his bar stool, Hermione came through the door, her cheeks stained with makeup and dried tears. At first she couldn't see Draco, and only heard a strained voice shouting curses loudly at the customers, but then she pushed her way through the crowd and spotted him. She stared at him in shock as he threw insults at everyone in the room, steadily turning them into an angry mob.

"And you! You have the biggest head I've ever SEEN! It's as big as a pumpkin! And you're nose isn't dainty either, but then there's you over there, with the furry lip—oh, that's a girl, isn't it?! Hahahaha! You've got a mustache—what the—?"

Draco looked down at his robes irritably to see what was tugging on them, interrupting his truly inspired speech. His eyes turned to slits of hatred when he saw who it was. Jumping off the stool to the floor, he wheeled on Hermione fiercely.

"Just what do _you_ want, Miss Perfect? I thought you were too good for me," he sneered, thrusting his drink back and fourth to show her what "you" and "me" referred to. It sloshed all over the place until there was practically nothing left for him to drink, but Draco didn't notice.

Hermione eyed the scarlet liquid in confusion until she realized what it was. She gasped and looked at his eyes, checking to see if they were bloodshot. They were _way_ past that point.

"You're drunk!" she cried.

The Head Boy burst into laughter at this, throwing his head back. "Oh, Granger, how innocent you are! Of course I'm _drunk_; I've just downed four glasses of Firewhiskey!" Then his mouth turned into a hard line. "And these pathetic excuses for magical people think that it's rather hilarious to watch me go on like this! Why does no one stop me, I ask you?!"

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed in his ear. "If you want someone to stop you, then _let_ _me_!"

"_You_? You want to help—(hiccup)—me? Oh NO, I've stooped so looooowww!" Draco wailed as Hermione placed his arm over her shoulder and began to lead him out. He hiccupped a few more times in succession and then let out a loud belch directly in the Head Girl's face.

"Eugh!" she grumbled, fanning her free hand in front of her nose.

He moaned loudly and held his stomach. "I…I don't feel so good."

"No, I don't suppose you do, Malfoy," she agreed with a sigh. Although they were due to complete their first rounds of the day in a few moments, Hermione decided that neither of them was in any condition to do so. She led him to the edge of the town and sat him down against the back wall of the Hog's Head. Since most people never ventured out past the dreary pub, she knew they wouldn't be disturbed there.

Hermione stood over him with her hands on her hips, perfectly ready to give him a lecture about the effects of alcohol and how this was the exact opposite of how a Head Boy should behave. But she stopped short and bit her tongue, knowing that her complaints would only cause more problems than they needed at the moment. Besides, it seemed that Draco had learned his lesson; no one wants to be humiliated in front of fellow classmates and get horribly sick afterwards.

He leaned over suddenly and threw up something dark red, coughing and sputtering in between heaves. At first Hermione thought it was blood, but she soon realized that it was Firewhiskey remains; blood did not fizz and produce bright red sparks when it came in contact with stomach acid.

In all honesty, she felt bad for Draco. It was an emotion hidden deep, _deep_ down inside herself somewhere, but it was there. Right now, though, the anger she felt was beginning to simmer to the top, but she kept it in for the time being. She could chew him out later anyway.

After a few more moments of relieving his stomach of its intoxicating contents, Draco's mussed blonde head came up. Hermione grimaced.

"_Tergeo_," she muttered, waving her wand to clear his mess. "Merlin, Malfoy, only you could get yourself drunk by eleven o'clock in the morning. You're turning out to be more work than those first years you think so troublesome. Pathetic."

He looked up at her groggily. To her alarm, his red streaked eyes filled with tears. "Blimey, I am pathetic aren't I?" He grabbed her scarf and proceeded to hide his face in it.

"Where's a video camera when you need one?" Hermione muttered.

Draco's tearstained face appeared above the scarf, "Whasa video camera?"

"Nevermind, Malfoy. Stop crying, you're ruining my scarf!" Hermione moaned halfheartedly. "Of course, not that you care. Because apparently YOU don't care about me!" Hermione decided that since Draco was not in his right senses, she could take the liberty of ranting a bit herself.

To her vague surprise, Draco lifted his head and looked her in the eye. "Bloody hell, for the best in our year you sure forget fast. Aren't you forgetting that it's because of _me_ that you're even here?"

Hermione met his gaze in shocked silence, and then looked down to recollect herself. "Malfoy, I think you are forgetting, that was it not for you, I wouldn't have been in danger in the first place." A scowl crossed her face as memories flooded to the front of her mind. She had not been expecting the arousal of this subject, but she was semi-grateful that they might now talk it out, although she doubted any of Draco's reasoning would be sound in his current state.

"If you'd kept your Mudblood nose where it belongs, you wouldn't have been in danger at all," he scoffed. "I don't know where you get your scatty ideas. Video cameras…honestly!" He blearily conjured a basin of water and splashed his face with it.

Hermione stared at him intently, determined to get somewhere at last with the conversation. "Look Malfoy, let's just get straight to the point—shall we? Let us pursue your flawed reasoning for a moment and say that it _was_ my fault that I ended up at the point of you father's wand." She paused to take a breath and posed the question that had been plaguing her all year: "Why did you save me?"

Draco's cleaning regime abruptly ended as he looked up into searching brown eyes that were desperately attempting to stifle their curiosity. "I'm a bloody hero, Granger. What would you expect?" Her gaze did not falter, and his smirk slowly faded. "Listen, Granger—do we have to talk about this?"

Hermione was surprised at the question; usually Draco left no room for negotiation. At her determined nod, he sighed in frustration and, with a flick of his wand, made the water basin vanish, seemingly to concentrate on his answer. This was followed by a rather long silence, during which Draco seemed to either be formulating a clever lie, or choosing one of many possible answers. When he looked up, he had managed to don his usual, nonchalant expression.

"I am a busy man," he said importantly. "Unlike _some_ _people_, I have a life. The last thing I need is a pair of Muggles trailing me around, moaning about their loss and demanding answers."

Hermione squinted at him in thought, disappointed by this turn of conversation. It did not seem as though they would make it as far as she'd hoped. A thought occurred to her, and she decided to employ Draco's own tactics.

"Oh really, Malfoy," she began with a most un-Hermione-like sneer, "You don't need to lie to me! It's sooo obvious that you just can't live without me! I've always thought you fancied me, and here I have proof! As you said yourself—you're a bloody hero! What's more dashing than saving a life? I'm flattered, Malfoy, but I'm afraid I must decline your affections."

Utter shock creased Draco's gaping face as he struggled to recover; for a moment, he seemed nauseous again. "I---you…NEVER….NO. I know what you're trying to do! You're trying to psyche me out! Enemy mind games! It won't work, I tell you!"

"Oh-ho, but it already has Mister Malfoy! You see, here you are, in a drunken stupor, throwing up buckets of Firewhiskey—and all on my account. Hm, what will your superiors do with you? After all, you would be in quite a predicament if anyone found out _why_ you had decided to drown your sorrows. Then again, you might have told the whole pub and just not remember."

Draco looked up stubbornly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and prepared to press the matter. "Oh really? Allow me to refresh your memory. The way I remember it, you were an insufferable prat all summer long, skulking around the castle up to no good whatsoever. I'll pass over the numerous misdeeds you performed, and sum it all up in saying that you did absolutely nothing good or productive, and managed to involve yourself in Dark situations. Meanwhile, I was attempting to complete my schoolwork so that I might make something of myself!" Malfoy's eyes were fastened on Hermione's face, and it seemed as though for once, she had his complete and undivided attention. He did not say anything, so Hermione risked plowing on. "Then, someone decided to practice some Dark Magic in a public corridor, where I was able to walk in on them! THEN, that same someone got the fantastically brilliant idea to bust their Deatheating father out of a heavily enchanted and guarded jail!" Hermione was nearly hysterical by now. "Meanwhile, I am doing my bloody best to keep this person from being jailed themselves for illegal magic! Why? I don't even KNOW! Oh, but wait, it gets better! The conniving father of the said someone attempts to break out of jail, aided by his mad, underage son, and where do I come in? Oh yeah! I'm the unlucky good person trying to save the stupid son who gets caught in the deranged father's crossfire! How well my memory serves me! And now- for the grand finale! That pompous, puffed up son of a Death Eater decides to get noble last minute, and swoops in on his little broomstick to save the endangered Mudblood whom he secretly cherishes a passion for!" Hermione's face became unreadable as she lowered her voice. "But did I mention? The scurvy Death Eater nearly died during this rash rescue, as—apparently—the only way you know how to defend yourself is with illegal curses!" Draco seemed to come to life after this exclamation, and clapped his hand over Hermione's mouth, breathing hard.

"Oh but you forgot a small detail, Miss Granger. The deranged son made a promise to the nosy Mudblood. Do you remember now?" Hermione swallowed hard and her eyes widened over his hand. Draco chuckled, "You do! That's right. As you know, that Death Eater's son would not hesitate to dispose of a certain Muggle family. If my father dies in Azkaban because of you, it's only fair that I return the favor. So, my dearest Mudblood, you really must learn to keep your mouth shut."

Hermione recovered from this threat quickly, and Draco abruptly jumped away from her. He cursed as he brushed off the swarm of ants that Hermione had conjured with her free wand arm. He looked up to glare at a smirking Hermione.

"What?" she taunted, "I had to get you to let go of me somehow. Merlin's Beard, Malfoy, you should really learn to keep your hands to yourself."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. _She's picking up those comebacks a little too fast._

An hour later, after a silent lunch under the distant but watchful eye of McGonagall (who had noticed Malfoy's rapidly swelling ant bites), the two Heads walked along the blustery Hogsmeade road, finishing up their second round of the village. All had been relatively quiet, with the exception of a raucous outburst on Draco's part. He had attempted to hex Harry through the frosted window of Madame Puddifoot's teashop, but failed miserably as all the shops had barriers surrounding them left over from the scare of Voldemort's reign. Fortunately, Harry was too absorbed in Ginny to notice anyway. Draco was still muttering mutinously when Hermione grabbed him by the back of his cloak. "Oo look! It's Jinxy Quill's—the new bookshop! I've wanted to visit it for ages. We're stopping." And without consultation, Malfoy was unceremoniously dragged into a warm shop brimming with books of every sort.

"_Jinxy Quill's_?" Draco mocked. "What kind of batty name is that? Sounds like a possessed pen." Hermione ignored him and eagerly continued on. As their interests did not coincide in any way, Draco and Hermione quickly found themselves on opposite sides of the store. Draco peered from a dark corner at Hermione where she was already absorbed in her selections. _Looks_ _like we'll be here a while_, he thought resignedly. _Might as well learn some new hexes. _He settled down into the shadows with _"Finding Your Inner Villain: Hexes for Every Enemy." _

Meanwhile, Hermione was searching the shelves for a book of a different sort. _I need something that teaches one how to deal with prats_, she thought with a toss of her hair. _Somehow I doubt that even this book shop will have that one. _She continued to scan the books ahead of her. She was temporarily distracted as a glint in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She shook her head slightly and looked the other way. A few moments later, however, a gold flicker again shone from a nearby book. Curious, Hermione stood on tiptoe to pull a thick brown leather-bound book from the shelf. In bold gold lettering, the book was labeled _"101 Tips to Becoming a Successful Head Boy or Girl; by Guinevere Helda Twinklebee."_ _Wow, this is exactly what I need_! She began flipping through the book and was impressed with the practical advice and history of the position that it provided. She flipped it over and was disappointed to see the cost was three Galleons. _I don't think I can afford that_, she admitted to herself. With a sigh she replaced the book on its shelf. Half an hour later Hermione stood before Draco, who sat snoring in his little corner of darkness. She picked up the volume of Dark Magic with disgust and whacked him across the head with it.

"Ow! Merlin, Granger! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!" he shouted angrily. A stout woman with colorful glasses and beads came rushing around the corner and stopped within inches of Draco's face, putting a finger to her lips to indicate silence.

"No yelling in my bookshop!" she whispered loudly.

"I take it you are…Jinxy Quill?" Draco asked her, not really interested in the answer but simply afraid that she would get closer to his face if he didn't say anything. Hermione hid a snicker as the woman puffed up to her full height (which was barely taller than Malfoy's chest) and stuck her nose in the air with pride.

"Yes, I am," she replied, sounding more like she was defending herself than agreeing with Draco.

He laughed, but turned it into a cough almost immediately, clearing his throat as he did so. "Where, um, where did that come from?" Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling.

"My mother's name was Jinxy, actually. My brother is Hexy, you know, and my other sister is Cursella," Jinxy Quill explained, getting into her story. Sensing that a long monologue was coming on, Hermione gave Draco her best I-don't-have-to-stay-here-but-you-do-so-HA smirk, and slipped away in the direction she came.

Coming across the same golden book that had caught her eye before, she sighed and picked it back up, as if hoping it had magically gone down in price. She opened it again and began reading, enjoying it even more than before. _I have to get this book! I could do so many new things as Head… _Turning the heavy book over in her hands, she squinted at the price in disbelief. _One Galleon? I could have sworn that it was three Galleons a few minutes ago! How odd…but still, that price is very fair for such a spectacular book. I simply must buy it! After all, I _can't_ leave without getting a book._ She grazed her hand over the smooth cover with a smile, content with her decision, and headed to the armchair where she had left Draco. Having guessed correctly, he was still being interrogated by Jinxy Quill, and this time she was asking the questions.

"So where does your family name come from?" Jinxy asked eagerly. "Someone as handsome as you must have a fascinating history!"

"Uh…," Draco stammered, clearly horrified that a middle-aged woman found him attractive. "No, it means ferret, actually. Nothing special there!"

"Ferret? Really now, there must be _some_ kind of story behind that! One does not just acquire a last name meaning ferret for no reason, every name has an adventure behind it!" she sang in a soft but demanding voice.

"Your last name means ferret, Malfoy?" Hermione laughed as she joined the happy couple. "Hm, I seem to recall it meant something like—"

"Ferret!" Draco interjected. He shot her a look telling her to keep her mouth shut and get him out of there. "That's all it means. We had a family pet that was a ferret. And it was named Ferret, too. That's the end. Uh, Granger, don't we have to go do our rounds, you know that whole Head Boy, Head Girl thing we got going?"

Jinxy Quill looked rather disappointed that his nomenclature went no further than a pet ferret, but lit up at the sound of "Head Boy and Girl."

"Oh my, we have royalty among us!" she enthused brightly, clapping her hands a few times and jumping a little off the ground. "How about we get some photos! Oh, what a splendid idea! Hold on, hold on, let me grab my camera!"

Draco and Hermione stood rooted on the spot, unsure of what would be easier—running away or simply going along with the shop owner's 'splendid idea.' Before they could even talk it out, though, Jinxy returned with magical camera in hand.

"Now, over there, get together kids, I'm going to start my collection of Hogwarts Heads with you two special people!" she cried happily. Jinxy bustled around, setting up her camera and tripod, while the two Heads inched towards the door.

"Actually, lady, we need to—" Draco began before Hermione cut him off.

"Buy this book," she said, holding it forward for her to see.

Luckily, this distracted Jinxy Quill enough for her to gasp and grab it from Hermione, running towards her register with glee.

"Oh, happy day! I thought you'd never sell, my darling!" Jinxy squealed in delight. She used her wand to check the book out, but stopped short when the price showed up in magical blinking numbers above the item.

"Hm, it seems you lowered your price, dearie," she murmured, seemingly to no one in particular. _WHO is this madwoman talking to?!_ Draco thought with a roll of his eyes. Hermione gave her a look of confusion and glanced around to see exactly who she was referring to.

"Excuse me?" she asked Jinxy.

"You must be one special girl!" said Jinxy with a wink that was not so subtle. She reached out and, to Draco's horror, pulled him into a side-hug. "Take good care of this one, Handsome!"

He shrunk in her grip and gave Jinxy a fake smile, attempting to please her if only to get out of there as quickly as possible. "Yeah, I'll…erm, do that."

"Oh, trust me, Jinxy, he takes _extra_ care with me." Hermione smiled at her, and then turned to Draco and gave him a scowl.

"Well, that'll be one Galleon miss!" Jinxy chirped, her palm extended.

Hermione dug in her purse and retrieved a golden coin, gave it to Jinxy Quill, and took her new book in a paper bag.

"Finally! We've been in here a whole bloody hour!" Draco complained once they were out the front door. Hermione sighed and gave him a look of annoyance.

"Well it was an hour well spent; I got a wonderful book and you got a nice little nap to sleep off your grumpiness."

"You know, if you spent half the time you take reading and put it towards meeting guys, you might actually have a boyfriend," Draco noted.

"Well if you spent half the time _you_ take destroying people's lives, you might have some friends!" the Head Girl snapped back.

"Alright, Granger, I think you've gotten your fill of comebacks for one day. If you don't stop stealing my material, I'll be forced to make you come up with your own," he informed her in a mock serious tone.

"Oh, come on, I do not take all of your comebacks! I've had some of my own I'll have you know!" Hermione defended.

"Really? Please, do inform me of these occurrences," said Draco with a wide smile. She looked briefly at him to see his expression, and, finding that it held smugness, tried to look anywhere but his face.

"Well, I mean, I have, I just can't…remember them all. Even you can't remember all of your _brilliant_ comebacks!" she stammered at first, gaining momentum as she pinned it on him.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong—I have a book full of comebacks that I've made. Had it published a few years back, actually…," Draco explained, his voice dripping with sarcasm. That earned him a look from Hermione, who then sighed and brought up another topic.

"So, what shop do you want to go to?"

Draco gave her a sideways glance and let out a breath while thinking. "Could I convince you to go to the Shrieking Shack?"

Hermione gave him a sharp glare of confusion mixed with curiosity. "Depends on why we would be going."

"Is having fun a good enough reason for you?"

"I would not label the Shrieking Shack as a 'fun' place, Malfoy," she snorted.

"I'll take that as a no."

"You take things correctly. This time, anyway."

"And when have I not?"

"Um, for your entire life."

"I have not!"

"Sorry Charlie, but you have."

"Who's Charlie? Is that another one of those stupid Muggle sayings?"

"Hm, well to you, it would be like a video camera."

"But you never told me what that was in the first place."

"I thought you didn't care about all things that relate to Muggles?"

Draco sniffed. "I never said that. I'm just curious anyway, it's not like I want to marry the thing. If it is a thing, that is. Wait, it's not a person, is it?"

"No, Malfoy, it's not a person."

"Are you going to tell me what it is?"

"No."

"Why not?" he whined.

"You sound like a first-year."

"Well you're acting like one."

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you. It's much too advanced for you."

"Nothing is too advanced for me, Granger. Even the emotions of a teenage girl are not too advanced for me. How do you think I've managed Pansy all these years?"

Hermione laughed out loud. "You're going to use _Parkinson_ as your example? That's rich, Malfoy."

"I am rich. And yes, I'm using Pansy because she's the epitome of a PMSing teenager."

"I thought you said that was me?"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Do you _want_ to be a PMSing teenager?"

"Stop confusing me!"

"Oh, look, we're at the Shrieking Shack."

Hermione whirled about. Sure enough, they were standing just yards away from the ominous and rickety house that stood on the edge of Hogsmeade. Apparently, Draco had decided to use his bantering as a way to distract Hermione from the destination he wanted to tour.

"You know it's the most haunted building in Britain," Draco whispered, reaching out to eerily breeze a hand down her sleeve.

Hermione dodged his fingers to hide the feelings they tended to elicit, and laughed nervously. "No, Malfoy. Here is one of those examples of when you are not correct. The Shrieking Shack is most certainly not haunted. If you're trying to scare me, it won't work."

"Well then there's no reason for you to run away is there? Come on, I'll prove it to you." The mischievous and slightly scary smile had once again appeared on Malfoy's face.

As they approached the building, a quiet moan was heard from their right. Even Draco looked alarmed as they both turned to see the source of the sound. Hermione and Draco were equally dismayed to see a rather forlorn looking Ron Weasley sitting with his back to them, perched on a rock in the bleak landscape. At the others' arrival, he looked up quickly before getting to his feet.

"Hermione! I was just…oh you know, er—taking a break from the others. Just so many people to see and...stuff," he finished lamely.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and seemed prepared to make a smart remark, but Hermione elbowed him (none too gently) and gave Ron a sympathetic look.

"Oh, well I'm glad you're having a good time," she encouraged, although it looked like the last thing he was having. She wanted to cheer Ron up, so Hermione left a forsaken Draco leaning against a pine tree as she sat next to Ron on his rock. She chatted with him about her rounds and excitedly showed him her new book. He smiled at her enthusiasm over it, but his face darkened as she related the humorous encounter with Jinxy Quill.

"Glad to hear you had a bloody blast with your new companion, 'Mione. You sure would've enjoyed a joke earlier when I got to watch my sister snogging my best mate, and was then reduced to wandering the streets alone!"

Hermione was taken back by his sharp tone, but tried to feel pity for his lonely state. "Well, Ron, I have an idea. Um, why don't you come with us to the Shrieking Shack? It's supposed to be a 'fun' place," she suggested with a skeptical glance at the still stationary Draco. "At least this time you won't be dragged in there by an angry animagus."

Draco perked up at this announcement, and condescended to saunter over to their rock. "Please tell me I heard wrong—the Weasel isn't going to come, is he? Blimey, I _have_ sunk low this year. Never thought I'd see the day that I spend my Hogsmeade visit with a Mudblood and blood-traitor."

Hermione chose to ignore this offensive remark, and instead grabbed Ron's arm to prevent a fight. She steered him toward the grey path leading to the shack and kept a light stream of conversation up to distract him. Soon, the group had reached the forbidding door. She hesitated, but as the smirk appeared on Draco's face she turned resolutely and boldly shoved the door open. The house creaked and groaned as the wind racked it and seeped in through the musty cracks. The threesome silently marched up the unsteady stairs and crept down a dark corridor. At the entrance of the hall, Draco turned in the opposite direction with a mischievous grin and quietly wandered down a neighboring hallway. He decided a good scare would liven up the other pair.

Meanwhile, Ron was gradually moving closer and closer to Hermione in the shadowy corridor. He eyed her nervously. He knew that that he was losing Hermione, and realized that if he did not act now, it might soon be too late.

Draco turned the corner, prepared to meet Ron and Hermione with a hair-raising whoop. To his surprise, the corner wrapped around the opposite side of the house. Turning to face the collection of doors behind him, Draco cursed as he realized he'd gotten himself lost.

Ron and Hermione wound their way through the dark rooms.

"No ghosts here!" Hermione sang triumphantly. "Do you hear that Malfoy? Time to admit you're wr—" Her voice died as she realized Draco was nowhere near them. Ron had been too nervous in his devising thoughts to notice his absence. "Where is Malfoy, Ron? Did he run off?"

Ron looked up in surprise, "Oh, I hadn't noticed. Stupid git probably took a wrong turn. Oh well. Fine by me if he stays here! If we're lucky, one of his ghosties got him."

Hermione managed a chuckle and began to lead the way down the long stairwell, quietly calling Draco's name. Three quarters of the way down the stairs, Ron placed a slightly sweaty hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Hermione, I need to tell you something," he began rather apprehensively. "I know we've been friends for a long time and all….but hey, you know…look at Harry and Ginny! They were friends too! But, uh, what I'm trying to say is that…um." In desperation, he leaned quickly, beseechingly, into Hermione. She consequently backed up to the stair rail in surprise at his sudden gesture. A sharp crack echoed through the house as the ancient railing snapped. Both Hermione and Ron found themselves in a pile of sawdust and splinters. Ron looked about in shock, and found himself in the unusual and awkward position of pinning Hermione to the ground. As Hermione looked up at him with the beginnings of a smile, he panicked. Wildly, he leaned down and swiftly kissed her.

At this moment Draco had found his way to the stairs as well, and stood leaning over an unbroken section of stair railing. He had been about to laugh at their predicament, but stopped midway in shock. Was the Weasel on top of Hermione? Was he KISSING her? An unknown and unsought feeling blazed through him as his pale cheeks flushed. As Hermione surfaced, looking as shocked as Draco felt, he lifted his chin and practically jumped the rest of the stairs, sprinting out the door. Ron and Hermione looked up in the direction of the sound and groaned, both realizing who had left.

"I think he saw that," Hermione breathed.


	6. Twink & Jinx

Chapter 6

At this moment Draco had found his way to the stairs as well, and stood leaning over an unbroken section of stair railing. He had been about to laugh at their predicament, but stopped midway in shock. Was the Weasel on top of Hermione? Was he KISSING her? An unknown and unsought feeling blazed through him as his pale cheeks flushed. As Hermione surfaced, looking as shocked as Draco felt, he lifted his chin and practically jumped the rest of the stairs, sprinting out the door. Ron and Hermione looked up in the direction of the sound and groaned, both realizing who had left.

"I think he saw that," Hermione breathed.

A million thoughts were racing through Draco's head, but he could neither collect them nor sort them out. Most were much too foreign to do anything with at all. He simply couldn't be jealous of the _Weasel_, could he?

His feet made crunching noises with every step as he sped through the leaf-covered path that led towards Hogsmeade. Draco wanted nothing more than to go back to the Three Broomsticks, force another Firewhiskey out of Madame Rosmerta, and drown his sorrows once again. Evidently, and as much as he despised it, Hermione appeared to have that effect on him. But he knew that it was not wise to get drunk twice in one day, especially since he'd hear it from Hermione later, the very person who was driving him back to the cheery pub in the first place. _Hey! The Hog's Head had unlimited quantities of Firewhiskey!_ _I bet they wouldn't try to cut a bloke off!_ On this thought he turned, and walked with a purpose toward the dark pub. His pace quickened, but as he grasped the door knob, his hand slid off of it before he could grip it. He frowned in confusion, and again reached to yank it open. Yet again his hand could not grasp the wicked door knob! He began wildly yanking at the possessed door, and when thwarted each time by the slippery handle, began pounding like a madman upon the wood itself. He spun around as he heard a giggle from somewhere behind him. Hermione stood a good fifteen feet away, stifling her laughter with a gloved hand. As he realized he had been jinxed, Malfoy snarled at her, "Sod off, Granger. Go back to your freckled snogging partner."

Hermione bit back a retort; she had been expecting something similar to this. She decided to try and distract him.

"Malfoy, what are you doing in front of the Hog's Head? More sorrows to drown?" she teased. When Malfoy didn't answer but looked around rather shiftily, she put her hands on her hips. "Malfoy! Drinking is NOT the answer!" She paused for a moment in thought. "What could you possibly be…Wait one minute!"A slow grin spread across her face.

Draco eyed her in apprehension. _Oh no! She's on to me! Wait, what am I saying? I have nothing to hide. There is no jealousy here. It was just more than my stomach could take to see those two gits together. That's all!_

"Malfoy…"Hermione began in a singsong voice, "Are you jealous, perhaps?"

Draco had already recovered though, and with a roll of his eyes and his usual sneer, laughed derisively. "Maybe that fall off the stairs injured your senses, Granger. Why on God's green earth would I be jealous of the Weasel King?"

"Well, seeing as you can't stand the thought of me and Ron together, as evidenced by your quick departure back at the Shrieking Shack and your run to the Hog's Head, I'd have to guess that you want me for yourself," she smugly told him, feeling much like Draco had when he used the same words on her.

"Ha! Granger, you've officially gone mental! Why would I want to snog a filthy little Mudblood like yourself?" Draco cackled.

"Well," Hermione began seductively, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "If that was true, then this should have no effect on you." She looked up directly into his eyes, and, in a very un-Hermione-like move, she reached up and brushed a finger against his jaw, tracing it down to his chin. Although she had no idea why she was trying to seduce an evil Slytherin who wanted her dead, Hermione liked the idea of having some type of control over him. And if he really was jealous of Ron, then this would be the ultimate test to find out.

"Surprised" would be a good adjective to describe Draco's facial expression as Hermione touched his icy skin, but it soon changed as the Head Boy's eyes fluttered shut and his breathing increased slightly.

The Head Girl was also surprised to find that she _did_ have a substantial effect on him! _Well, what do you know, the arrogant Draco Malfoy can't resist me! I'll have to use that to my advantage later…_ she thought in delight.

Hermione suddenly dropped her hand, but it was against her will. She looked in confusion from her seemingly frozen arm to Draco's face, trying to figure out what was going on. His smirk said it all; he had jinxed her in the exact same way that she had only moments before.

"Were you trying to seduce me?" he questioned in curiosity.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him as she struggled to free her arm from its invisible vice. She decided to dodge that particular inquiry. "Let me go, Malfoy," she hissed, her face still close to his.

"Aw, but I thought you liked being this close to me. After all, _you_ were the one who made a move on _me_." A satisfied smile curled on his lips.

"I was just trying to make you admit it!" Hermione growled. "Agh! Malfoy, take it off!"

"Ooo, kinky, Granger," Draco teased as he watched her struggle fruitlessly.

"I meant the jinx, you git!"

"Wait," the blond-haired Slytherin interrupted, "make me admit what?"

Hermione ceased her attempt at breaking free to glare at him. "Admit that you were jealous of Ron!"

Draco sighed and shook his head. "You and your scatty ideas. I mean, honestly, even if I had succumbed to your little game of Try-to-Make-Draco-Weak-at-the-Knees, it only would have worked for one reason. I am a male. Unfortunately for me, that means that any female interaction will have an intense effect on me, whether I want it to or not. So your test proved nothing."

Hermione frowned. "You can't just pin this on your hormones, Malfoy."

"Actually, I can," Draco corrected. He raised his wand and gave a small flick, immediately taking the jinx off of his fellow Head. "Now, we're late for our next round. Let's get moving."

Happy that she could now move her arms freely again, Hermione pulled her own wand out of her jacket and whipped it up in the air to cast a rather painful jinx back on Draco. Luckily for him, he whirled around and grabbed her wrist before she could do so.

"That's no way for a Head Girl to act, is it?" he reprimanded.

Breathing hard, Hermione gave him a death-stare, reluctantly lowering her wand and stowing it back in her pocket. She couldn't argue with that logic.

"I loath you," she snarled.

"For now, Granger, for now."

The remainder of the Hogsmeade trip passed by in comparative quiet, and soon the two Heads found themselves back in their own cozy dormitory, out of the chilling wind. Hermione, who was eager to have time away from Draco after a full day of nothing _but_ him, retired quickly to the privacy of her own room. She picked up her new book in excitement and immediately prepared to submerse herself in it. As she did so, however, she noticed something different about the cover. Skimming over the gold lettered title, Hermione reread it several times before finally gasping in surprise and confusion. In curly calligraphy was a completely new title than the one she had seen when the book had been purchased. "The Diary of Hermione Granger: Books, Boys, and Being the Best You Can," was now scrawled across the cover.

"What in the world _is_ this book?!"Hermione shrieked.

"It's me!" a peppy voice piped up from nowhere. Hermione let out a yelp and dropped the book on the floor.

"OW!" the voice resounded again. Hermione leapt on her bed and stared at the book in terror.

_Ok, books don't talk. So what the bloody heck was that?_ She thought, honestly afraid at this point. Then, a fresh idea occurred to Hermione and her eyes narrowed. _Wait a minute…_

She scooped up the forsaken book and threw open her door. She marched down the hall to Draco's door and beat upon it. When there was no answer, she shouted "_Alohomora_!" and strode in.

Draco didn't look up from the parchment he was scribbling on. "Get out, Granger. I'm busy."

Hermione glared at the back of his head. Draco yelled as the parchment he'd been writing on burst into flame. "What the—! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

"What did you do to my new book, Malfoy?" Hermione growled menacingly. She pulled it out to reveal its new cover. Draco's forehead creased as he struggled to understand what she was talking about.

"Your diary, Granger? I'll admit, I'd have no qualms about reading it, but I didn't do anything to it. Didn't even know you kept one."

Hermione's glare did not falter. "You put a speaking spell on it to annoy me. And this is NOT my diary!" She allowed Draco to take the book and turn it over in his hands.

"Are you quite sure? Sure looks like a diary. See? It says—"

"I know how to read, Malfoy! It said something back there and it had to be you who jinxed it!"

Draco frowned at the book and opened it to look at its pages. "Maybe you were hearing things, Granger. Ha, probably wouldn't be a first. Wait a second, 'the stupid git did it again today; he opened his mouth…' Hey! This _is_ your diary!"

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock, but with a quick charm, summoned her book safely to her own hands. "Merlin! It is my diary! Wha—How?" She stared down at the unassuming book in wonder.

"I am not a stupid git!" Draco retorted.

"Yes you are, and you obviously did something to my book—enchanted it or something! Change it back!" she yelled furiously.

"I didn't do anything to your _precious_ book, Mudblood!" he barked. "Now, get out of my room! I have to write my letter all over again, considering you turned the last one to ashes!"

"Oh, like it was important!" Hermione said off-handedly. "Who were you writing to anyways?"

Draco stared at her for a second and then lit up with a fake smile. "Oh! Well how about you just sit down on my bed and I'll tell you all about it, and then we can paint each others toes and talk about boys!" His face dead-panned after this exclamation and he pointed at the door. "Now leave before I lose my mind and actually do those things."

Hermione's nostrils flared angrily as she stormed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind her. "_Stupid_ prat! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She flopped back down on her bed and gazed at her book once again.

"You really shouldn't aggravate him, you know. Oh my, my—if you saw what he writes about you in his journal, I don't think you would!" The peppy voice was back.

"What _are_ you?!" Hermione practically yelled in frustration.

Immediately after her question, a smooth golden face appeared on the book's cover.

"I'm Twink, my dear! Here to show you the world and all its secrets!" the book chirped excitedly.

Hermione gaped. "You talk! An—and you're a book!"

"Yes, Hermione! And if I know anything at all, you know all about books! However, Missy, you haven't come across anything like me before!" the book giggled in glee. "You see, I am a very special book! I think we'll become fast friends."

Hermione could not help but smile at the book's enthusiasm. "Well, this is quite amazing! Tell me about yourself. It's not every day I meet an enchanted book, after all. There's no way Malfoy could conjure something this nice."

"I should think not!" the book said indignantly. "I am here to help you succeed! Just like I promised, only in much more things than becoming a good Head! Flip through my pages, 'Mione, and you'll find something different on each one, every time."

Hermione did as Twink said and began to carefully finger her way through the pages. Maps, potion recipes, history chapters, spells, hexes, jinxes, detailed pictures, and even…. "What's this?"Hermione exclaimed. Down the page in a slant scrawl were slowly forming words.

_Dear Mother,_

_No need to worry about me. Everything is fine here. As you know, I have to live with that filthy Mudblood, but I've made sure it's not affecting my studies..._

Hermione raised her eyebrows as she realized what she was looking at. "Very impressive, Twink!" she praised her new friend. "It's the letter Malfoy was writing!"

Twink laughed, "I thought you might be interested in that. There's plenty more where that came from, too!"

Fascinated and entranced by the black, inky words that were appearing before her eyes, Hermione read on.

_Father says that the tutoring is going to be worth it, but I think it's pointless. Try to talk some sense into him when you get the chance. Granger hates it almost as much as I do, so I don't think it will be a problem if we discontinue with our sessions. McGonagall will obviously let us quit, too. Well, that's all for now. Send sweets with your next letter, my supply has run out much too quickly._

_**Draco**_

"Pointless tutoring?" Hermione said, appalled by the very idea. "And I thought he was really progressing, too!"

"Don't worry about him, Hermione, he's just in a rotten mood," Twink explained. When given a curious look from her owner, she went on. "Oh, I can read moods, too! But I don't display them, so if you want to know anyone's disposition, you have to ask."

"Wow, what a handy little book you are!" the Head Girl grinned. "I think I shall find many good uses for you."

"Well, I for one am certainly glad that you bought me; I had to spend my days conversing with that awful Jinxy woman!" Twink said, making a gagging noise at the sound of her name.

Hermione chuckled as she recalled her own encounter with the scary shop keeper. "Ah, so that's why you changed your price!" she recalled suddenly.

"Yup! I saw you had put me back, so I changed it! I knew the title would make you return," Twink replied with a smile and wink.

"So your titles change too!" Hermione realized.

The book's golden face nodded (if that's possible). "That's right! Everything about me changes constantly, that way no one can find out that I'm magical!"

Hermione grinned at her and flipped to a new page that had an image of Harry on it. He was leaning over a table with a quill poised in the air and a piece of parchment in front of him.

"What's he doing, Twink?" she asked.

"I believe Mister Potter is attempting to write a note to someone," she answered.

Hermione frowned. "You mean you don't know who it's to?"

"I'm afraid I can't read minds, Hermione, just moods."

"Well, what's Harry feeling, then?"

"Hmm," Twink began, apparently thinking. "He's feeling very…in love! Aw, do _you_ know who it is?"

"It must be Ginny! I guess they had a good date today," Hermione answered, feeling happy for them herself.

"Ginny Weasley? I love her diary, it's always so entertaining!" the book said. "Would you like to take a peek? She's penning something right now."

"No, no, Twink, I wouldn't want to invade on her privacy," Hermione declined. To her surprise, this just pleased Twink more.

"Oh well, more for me!" she said with a playful smile.

Hermione spent the remainder of her evening exploring Twink's pages and doing her lessons. Draco didn't come to her room to begin their tutelage and she did not bother to seek him out. She had not forgotten his disgust with her in his letter.

Meanwhile, Draco finished rewriting his letter, now with a new fervor of dislike for the girl he was discussing with his mother. After folding it and placing it on his bedside table to take to the Owlry in the morning, he shut off his light and wriggled down into his covers. It had been a long day, considering it was now almost midnight, so he knew he would get a deep sleep that night.

Suddenly, a soft but urgent whispering came from the inside of Draco's nightstand. His eyes flew open in alarm, but he remained still, trying to figure out if he was simply imagining things or if he really _was_ hearing voices.

"Draco, can you hear me?" the sound came again. The now annoyed Slytherin flung off his comforter and sat up on his bed. Slowly, cautiously, he opened the table drawer and peered inside. In the darkness, a small circle of illumination shone back at him, making his face light up. His eyes squinted at the brightness of it, and, when they finally adjusted, he recognized a pale, pointed face looking back at him.

"There you are!" said the mirror-sized version of Lucius Malfoy. "I've been calling you for ages, Draco!"

Even though he was surprised to see his father, Draco picked up the mirror and settled on his bed; he knew they would be talking for a while.

"Sorry, I was writing Mum a letter," he explained.

"Oh, well, that's alright. Tell her hello for me," Lucius said. "Anyway, like I told you last time I visited, I'm here to check up on your progress with the girl."

Draco sighed and looked away for a second, trying to configure the right words that would please his father. "Granger, yeah…we're doing fine. She's tutoring and I'm learning."

"Are you just saying that, Draco? You're not lying to me, are you?" the face asked sternly. "Because you know that lying won't get you anywhere, especially with something so important."

"Father, I told you—"

"Now, I'll ask you again," he continued, ignoring his son's protests. "Are you making _progress_ with Miss Granger?"

"How would you define 'progress'?" Draco risked asking rhetorically.

He earned himself a deep scowl from his father. "You aren't befriending her, are you?! I don't think you understand how crucial it is that we keep up a good image with her! If she lets anything slip—"

"Father, I've tried being nice to her and it only makes her more suspicious! Instead, I found that threatening works much better," Draco cut him off, looking rather smug.

Accordingly, Lucius was rather taken back by his son's decision. "Threats? You threatened the Mudblood? What did you say?" Draco definitely took notice of how pleased his father seemed with him.

"I told her that if she didn't keep her mouth shut, we'd kill her filthy Muggle parents," he answered with a wicked grin.

"Well, well, Draco! I must admit, I'm very impressed with you," Lucius said. "You're acting like a true Malfoy now."

"Oh, erm…thanks," Draco replied uncomfortably. It was a rare occasion that his father praised him, and when he did, it was no more than a few words. This was above and beyond Draco's expectations. "But I had to do something; she was beginning to get antsy keeping it all in. Almost gave it out a few times, but luckily we were in our dorm."

"All of that is well and good, Draco, but I insist that you continue being kind towards her. One threat, even if it is rather effective, won't keep her quiet forever. I have a good feeling that she doesn't distrust you that completely."

Now it was the Head Boy's turn to scowl. "Father, I told you that _doesn't_ work! Besides, it's killing me to pretend that she's not a Mudblood."

His father sighed heavily. "Listen, I understand your plight, but I'm commanding you to do this for me. It won't be for long, anyway; I'm almost certain I've figured out a way to get 'me' out of Azkaban. After that, you'll never have to see her again. Just a few more months, Draco, that's all I want from you."

"A few more _months_?!" his son exclaimed in horror. "I thought you said this would be over before second term! I'll never last that long!"

"Hush!" Lucius quieted with a snarl. "Things have changed, so we're going to need more time. And it's time for you to step up and get over your petty differences. I suppose that…ah, well, let's just say that I'll send some help for you soon."

"Help?" Draco questioned, curious but suspicious at the same time. "What do you mean, 'you'll send help'? This doesn't involve one of your stupid, worthless followers, does it?"

His father gave him a hard glare. "They are not worthless, Draco. In case you've forgotten, one of them is in my cell at Azkaban as we speak, and if that were not so, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. Some may be dim-witted, I'll admit, but they do what I tell them without arguing. But, no, I will not be sending them because they're obviously still locked up in that bloody jail. I have other ways of helping that do not require someone's presence."

"What other ways—"

"It does not matter!" Lucius snapped. "I don't have any more time to discuss this, but take heed of what I have said, Draco. And this time, try harder! If not, I will make sure I carry out that threat I gave you last month."

"But what did you mean by—" Draco began only to be left suddenly. In a flash, his father's face disappeared, and he was left staring at a mirror that only reflected his own confused one.

He threw the object back into the drawer and slammed it shut, throwing himself back into bed with fury. _Stupid prick!_ Draco thought angrily. _Why won't he ever listen to me? The threat was good enough, and I don't need to be nice to Granger anymore than I have been! Why can't he just bust himself out like he did last time? I mean, I know my plan didn't work, so why can't he just come up with his own if he's so high and mighty? He doesn't need me anymore, anyway. All I know is that he better hurry up and find a plan, because I don't think I can stand another semester with the Mudblood and her drama. _As he sat there thinking about Hermione, he remembered her diary. _Hm, I bet Granger's got some juicy stuff in there! I believe I should find that book one day and give it a read. She's always telling me to broaden my horizons with reading, so why not start with a book she wrote? I'll have to find it when she's gone or something._ All of this scheming comforted Draco, and soon he was fast asleep, dreaming about what wonders lay in the vast pages of Hermione's diary.

"Gooood morning, Hermione!"

The Head Girl shot up in bed, looking around her room in alarm.

"I said good morning!"

Hermione glanced over to her bedside table and spotted a golden-faced book smiling back at her.

"Oh, it's you, Twink! I thought that ruddy git Malfoy had gotten in here," she said, grinning back.

"No, I would have told you if that happened. I keep a sharp eye out for that one; don't forget I know most of his secrets," Twink replied, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You do?" Hermione asked, suddenly wide awake.

"Well, I can read his journal, can't I?" the book said innocently, as if reading someone else's secret thoughts was an everyday occurrence.

"You can?!" she enthused. Hermione grabbed Twink off the table and flipped her open, going through pages like a hurricane.

"Whoa!" Twink yelped as she was transported to Hermione's lap so quickly. "Yes, of course I can! I can access any type of written document in the past one thousand years. And just what are you looking for, Missy?"

"Malfoy's journal, of course! I want to know what he writes about me!" Hermione exclaimed. Twink remained silent as the Gryffindor continued her search; she would let her find out the hard way first.

Hermione deflated with a frown as the back cover turned over in her hand. "I thought you

said you could read Malfoy's journal, Twink? Where is it?"

The book sighed. "I'm afraid I can only see it when he's actually _writing_ in it. Other than that, I cannot pry into someone else's personal effects."

"Oh," the Head Girl replied, clearly disappointed. "Well, can you tell me when he starts to write, then?" she asked hopefully.

"Hmm," Twink thought. "Well, from my experience, I can tell you that he usually begins writing when he goes to bed each night. But when he actually starts I can most definitely tell you! Although I may be asleep sometimes, so then I wouldn't be able to tell."

"That's great, Twink!" Hermione cheered. "Wait, you can sleep?"

"Of course I can! You don't think I just lie here all day, staring at the ceiling, do you? That would be quite boring. No, no, I need my rest just like you. How do you think I stay so peppy all the time?"

She laughed happily. "Maybe because you can delve into other people's lives whenever you want to? I know I'd be peppy if I could do that!"

"Well, that _is_ an advantage…Oi!" Twink cried out. "He's writing something, Hermione!"

"Who, Malfoy?" Hermione said even though she knew it was. She picked Twink back up and opened her cover, seeing the same dark, slanted writing from the night before being scrawled on the first page.

"I suppose he forgot to write last night and is catching up now," Twink guessed as her owner began to read.

_October 16__th__ (written the following morning)_

_Well, she's done it again. Granger couldn't keep her mouth shut and decided that yesterday would be a perfect day for a nice long chat about this past summer. As if I didn't already know everything that happened! I'm the one who saved her, for Merlin's sake! And I almost managed to kill my father in the process! So, for some insane reason, she decides that it's alright to just start talking about it, as if we were discussing the weather or something. Of course, I was drunk out of my mind, so I guess she thought she could take advantage of the moment, but I mean, I could still understand what was going on! I've been drunk enough times to be able to actually stay somewhat sober in the middle of the fog. I swear, that girl is going to die young if she doesn't learn to control her emotions around dangerous people. Does she not know who I am? What I've done? Maybe she's just so naive to think that I've put it all behind me. Well, I have, but Father doesn't see it that way. He continues to involve me in every bloody scheme he comes up with, such as Operation Bust-Out-of-Azkaban. Hello? Does his mind not comprehend that it didn't work last time? I guess he just thinks it failed because I orchestrated it, but I mean, honestly, I think the man's gone daft. Well, whatever, he can do what he wants. If the fool gets killed, so be it. It's his plan, so it's his funeral. And what's all this crap about befriending Granger? Who the bloody hell does he think I am, Potter? Or perhaps he wants me to be more like Weasley and harbor a secret love for her. Ha! I never thought someone could be so thick. Oh, did I mention that I saw her snogging the life out of him at the Shrieking Shack yesterday? Yeah! Right there on the floor, they were just going at it! I got out of there as fast as I could, but I still can't get that sickly image out of my mind. AH! I think I just threw up in my mouth. Well, time to go harass Granger about it! More later._

_**Draco**_

"Why, that little prat!" Hermione shouted. "I was not 'going at it' with Ron! He's the one who kissed me! Which I still don't understand…"

"Ron kissed you? Ron Weasley?" Twink asked excitedly.

"Yes, he did. On our Hogsmeade trip yesterday. It was all so sudden, I had no idea what to do!" she answered, closing the book so she could talk to her face-to-er…book-face.

Before she got the chance to, though, her door burst open and in walked the prat himself, a smirk on his pale lips.

"Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked, hiding Twink under her comforter as she pulled it around her body protectively. "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?!"

He frowned as he looked around her room. "I thought I heard you talking to someone in here. I just wondered, you know, if it was your little snogging partner." His smirk returned at the sight of her shocked face.

"Number one, you _git_, I don't have a snogging partner. If you're referring to Ron, we have nothing going on. He's the one who kissed me, anyway," she calmly explained. "Number two, who are you to just barge in on me like that?! I could have been changing, you know!"

"Pity, that's what I was hoping for, Granger," he replied cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"You're disgusting!" Hermione yelled. She picked up her pillow and chucked it at his head, narrowly missing him as he ducked. "Would you mind getting out of my room now?"

"Yes, I would mind," Draco said. "I don't believe you."

"Don't believe what?"

"That you weren't enjoying the Weasel's snog. It seemed to me that you were more than willing to let him have a go at you."

"What do you know?" she defended heatedly. "All you saw was a flashing image as you fled from the building. We fell off the stairs, landed in an awkward position, and _Ron_ kissed _me_. End of story." She emphasized certain words to make sure he got the idea that she did not instigate anything.

"Then how come you didn't push him off straight away?" Draco pushed. He was not convinced in the least, Hermione could tell.

"Well, if you didn't notice, he was kind of _pinning_ me to the ground!" she exclaimed. "I couldn't have pushed him off if I tried; he's a lot stronger than he looks."

Draco's eyebrows rose at her. "And how would you know that, Granger? Are you saying you've been in a similar situation before?"

"You know what?" she began, a smile on her face for the first time during their conversation. "I don't have to explain anything to you. Besides, I think you're just jealous!" Her smile widened as Draco's smirk disappeared.

With one more suspicious glance around her bedroom, he turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. Hermione locked it after he left, and began to get ready for her day. As she walked down to breakfast, she groaned to herself. _Oh great. I forgot that now I actually have to see Ron. How awkward is this going to be!_

As she entered the Great Hall however, Ron was not amongst the breakfasters. Upon a second look, Hermione realized Harry wasn't either. As she sat down, bewildered, Ginny appeared at her shoulder.

"Hermione," she began, "If you're wondering where Harry is, he's up in the hospital wing with Ron." As Hermione looked up at her, aghast, she hurried on. "It's alright, he's fine. Well, sorta. It seems as he was walking to breakfast, Malfoy hexed him from behind without warning. Stupid prat. Now Ron's lips have swollen to six times their size." Before Ginny had even finished her sentence, Hermione had gotten up and began marching resolutely to the Slytherin table.

Draco jumped as she hissed fiercely into his ear: "You think you're so clever. I'll have my revenge on you Draco Malfoy, when you least expect it."

Without waiting for his reply, she turned on her heel and rushed up to the hospital wing. Harry was leaving the room as she approached it.

"Hermione!" he greeted. "Er, trust me—Ron would not want you to see him right now. He's not looking so good to be honest." Hermione nodded and stepped back. "What we're wondering," he continued, "is why Malfoy hexed him in the first place. Usually we have to provoke him. I'll make sure to do that next time."

Hermione had a decently practical idea of why Draco had hexed Ron (his choice of hex was enough to guess that), but chose to say nothing. The conversation would only grow awkward. She agreed with Harry, and returned to the Great Hall to finish her breakfast with Ginny.

Upon her return to the Head's common room, Hermione sat on the cushy couch and, while waiting for Draco's return, meditated the best way to get revenge on her fellow Head. She made a mental decision to recruit Ginny's help if needed, as she was known for creative means of design for such things.

After at least twenty more minutes, the Head Boy strolled in, gave Hermione a nonchalant wave, and went directly into the bathroom, locking himself in.

"Oh no you don't!" she said aloud, stalking over to the thick, wooden door. Once there, Hermione pounded loudly on it with her fists, making the frame shake slightly. "Draco Malfoy, you open this door this instant or I'll make sure you're never able to use the bathroom again!" She was thoroughly surprised when he did exactly as she asked and swung the door open. Draco stared at her in a bored manner, waiting for her to say something.

"Well, what is it?" he said, yawning slightly.

This only infuriated her more. "What IS IT?! I'll tell you what it is, you idiotic prick! How could you do that to Ron?! That was simply the most low, underhanded, improper, immature thing you could have done! And you're a HEAD! What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that Weasley would look rather dashing with a big, fat lip," Draco answered with his trademark smirk. "Don't you think so?"

"No, I don't think so, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed. She whipped out her wand and shoved it under his chin, making him tilt his head up and back against the now closed door. "I could do so many things to you right now," she said in a soft, sinister tone.

"Granger, you just said yourself that Heads shouldn't use hexes on other students!" he pleaded in a whiny voice not his own.

Hermione stared at his weak form up against the wall and pondered a moment. If she hexed him now, no one would see it. That was pleasing, but not as satisfying as it would be to have the whole school witness him turning into a donkey, or something equally humiliating. Besides, he was right. She hated it when he was right. Reluctantly, the Head Girl lowered her wand and put it back in her robes.

Realizing he was free (for the time being), Draco pushed off from the door and resumed towering over her.

"Just couldn't do it, could you? I knew you didn't have the guts," he taunted.

Hermione laughed. "You wait, Malfoy. I told you I'd have my revenge on you, and I meant it. I never break a promise."

"Don't you mean a threat?"

"No. Threats don't always happen, promises are for sure," she said confidently. Draco knew she was referring to more than just promising to hex him; she was targeting the threat he had made in Hogsmeade.

"_My_ threats always go through," Draco disagreed, trying to insinuate that he _would_ kill her parents if she spilled the beans.

"Do they now?" Hermione asked in a surprised tone. "Funny, I always thought you were joking. After all, you are the one who told me to get a sense of humor."

Draco didn't answer as he stood there, fists clenched into tight balls, his whole body shaking. All he wanted to do was throw her a good, hard punch and teach her what his threats were all about. Unfortunately, and for some reason unknown to him, he couldn't do it. He just couldn't hit her. And oddly, he knew it wasn't just because she was a girl.

"Are you alright? Looks like you're going to be sick," she commented, not really interested if he was or not.

All he could do was throw an insult at her. "Sorry, must have gotten a whiff of Mudblood."

The smile fell off Hermione's face like melting butter, but she ignored him. "Speaking of being sick, I'm going to go visit Ron and see how he's doing. Who knows, maybe he needs me to _kiss_ it and make it better," she said, knowing it would make her fellow Head even angrier. She flashed a quick grin at a steaming Draco and left out the portrait hole.

Still shaking with fury, Draco collapsed into the nearest armchair and heaved a great sigh. _That woman takes more energy out of me than fighting with my father!_ He muttered in his head. _I_ _guess he was right, though. Granger doesn't take my threat seriously! I guess I'll have to…be…ah, what's that awful word? Oh yeah, NICE. How pathetically disgusting—a Malfoy being nice! What is this world coming to when a man can't even hurl insults as he pleases?_

"He's right this way, Miss Granger," Madam Pomphrey said as she led the Head Girl into the hospital wing and to Ron's bed. "He's resting, so try not to disturb him. I just gave him some healing potion and it's made him drowsy."

Currently, the ginger-haired boy was fast asleep, his gigantic lips puffed up into a pout that twitched every time he breathed out. Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him with unnaturally large, purple lips.

"Oh, Ron, you poor thing," she whispered, trying to stifle her laughter. He groggily opened one of his eyes and seemed to struggle as he tried to decipher who was standing next to him.

"It's me, Hermione," she told Ron. He squinted a bit more and then smiled in recognition. After she returned the gesture, he fell back into his slumber.

"When will the swelling go down?" Hermione questioned the nurse.

"The potion should take effect very soon, so I think it's safe to say he'll be back to normal by this evening," Madam Pomphrey explained. "Now really, he needs his rest, Miss Granger."

Nodding at her and giving Ron one last kiss on the cheek, Hermione stood and followed the nurse out the door. She didn't feel like returning to her dorm, where she knew Malfoy would most likely be, so off to the library she went. Besides, she needed to check out a few books for the Potions essay Snape had just assigned them. _If Malfoy knew what was good for him, he'd be working on this too._ Hermione thought bitterly.

All too soon, she bit her own tongue. Sitting at a corner table was Draco, picking his way half-heartedly through a book labeled, "The Magical Properties of Asphodel and It's Use in Everyday Potion-Making." She groaned inwardly at her luck; that was the exact book she needed. Either she could wait until he was done with it, pretending to be interested in another book entirely, or she could work on the essay with him while they shared the book. Hermione hated the latter idea. Of course, she could always just go and snag the book from under his nose and high-tail it out of there before he could even respond. What to do…

"Ahem."

Draco looked up from the book he was reading (trying to read, more like it), and saw his roommate staring back at him, arms crossed. By now, he knew Hermione well enough to figure this one out on his own; he had the book she needed, and there was no way he was going to give it up without a fight.

"Can I help you, or are you just going to stand there like you're making some kind of statement or something?" Draco sneered.

"Yes, actually, you can. I need the book you've got there," Hermione stated. She figured she'd try to negotiate first, and, if that didn't work, she'd use the grab-n-go technique.

"Well, too bad, I'm busy using it. Or were you too dumb to notice?"

"No, I noticed," she replied, taking up all of her resources to remain calm. "I was just wondering if _I_ could use it, that's all."

Draco stared at her as if she really _were_ dumb. "Ok, but _I'm_ using it now. So you, Little Miss Sunshine, will have to wait."

"Malfoy, you're flipping through pages, you aren't really _reading_. By the time we're through arguing, I could have read it already and given it back!" He was really testing her patience now. Why couldn't he just hand it over!

"Look, Granger, just because you're too thick to realize when someone is reading, doesn't mean I'm going to hand the only copy of this book to you just because you say you _want_ to use it now." Draco gave her a fake smile and resumed thumbing through the pages, not reading anything on purpose; he reveled in annoying her.

"Oh my gosh! Draco, look, it's Pansy! And she's got a giant raincloud over her head!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing over his shoulder.

"What? Where?!" he whirled around and saw nothing, but when he turned back to ask what was going on, he saw Hermione dashing out of the library with _his_ book in her hands.

Once safely out of the librarian's earshot, Draco sprinted after her and began shouting.

"Granger! You filthy Mudblood, give it back!" he roared as they took a turn. Despite her efforts, Draco was much taller than Hermione, and therefore had a much longer stride, so he caught up with her faster than she had predicted. She got to their dorm in record time, with Draco only feet behind her, dove through the portrait hole, and ran all the way into the living room before two strong arms grabbed her from behind. With their momentum still propelling them forward, the two Heads fell into a rolling heap on the floor, settling in the middle of the room, one on top of the other. Hermione fleetingly remembered that she had been in this position only yesterday, but with Ron. For some reason she liked it better this time.

Both students were breathing hard and remained still for a moment, trying to catch their breaths. Draco recovered first and looked down to see Hermione beneath him. A smirk curled on his lips.

"Well, Granger, it seems that you _have_ been in this position more than once!" he laughed.

"Shut up and get off me, Malfoy!" Hermione snarled, pushing up against his chest with her small hands. He wouldn't budge. _Quidditch has done him well…_she thought.

"No."

She glared at him intensely and tried moving him once more. Draco laughed at her fruitless attempts. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, aren't I?"

Hermione couldn't help but notice that his words were identical to her own that very morning. "Unfortunately," she growled. "Please get off me!"

"Hold your horses, Granger, I just want to ask you something," Draco replied.

"Can't you ask me when I'm a good distance away from you and can act like a civilized human being?" Hermione asked with a sigh.

"So I make you act uncivil, do I?" he questioned, eyebrows raised. Draco chuckled at her words and smirked again. "I think I like that."

"You're a pig, Malfoy."

"All the more to love, my dear."

"Just ask your stupid question before my whole body goes numb!"

"Patience, Granger," Draco chastised. He thought for a moment and then continued. "So, I was wondering something."

After another dramatic pause, Hermione egged him on. "And that would be…?"

"Was this time better than the last?"

"What?" she asked in momentary confusion.

"I mean with Weasley. This time must be better than that," Draco said almost anxiously, though he tried to hide it. Was he afraid she'd say no?

Now Hermione understood what he was talking about. "Why do you ask, Malfoy? Could it be because you secretly wish you were the one snogging me yesterday instead of Ron? And perhaps that would explain why you hexed him and made his _lips_ swell up considerably? Don't think I didn't catch the undertone of that action. I knew exactly why you did it."

"You are so full of it, Granger. There's no way I'd want to be in Weasel Breath's place even if you paid me," Draco scoffed.

"Then why do you care if this time is better than the last? Surely you're not that egotistical that you just want to be better simply for the sake of it."

Seizing his way out of the truth (a truth he didn't even want to admit to himself), Draco smiled. "Oh, but I am. You underestimate me completely."

"Well, sorry, but I have to say that it was better with Ron," Hermione said smugly. "After all, he _did_ kiss me. You haven't even come close."

"Well, I'll have to change that, won't I?" Draco announced as he leaned down towards her. His nose brushed against hers for barely a second before she used all of her strength to thrust his body off of her. He landed with a thud on her right side and screwed up his face as the pain of hitting his head on the hard floor registered.

"Granger, you almost bloody knocked me out!" he complained, sitting up beside her and rubbing the back of his head.

"You deserved it!" Hermione nearly yelled. "What is wrong with you, thinking you can just go ahead and kiss me like that?"

"Oh, like you didn't want it!" he countered. "If you weren't so sodding proud, maybe you would've realized that you fancy me!"

"Yeah, because that's a likely story!" she snorted.

"Look, I know you do, just admit it. I won't laugh," Draco said. Hermione was surprised to find that he looked dead serious, but she thought that maybe it was just the effects of the pain. Well, she hoped it was, anyway.

"I'm not going to admit to something that isn't true, Malfoy."

"Well, perhaps if you let me kiss you, then we'd both know for sure."

"Forget it, I'm not just going to _let_ you kiss me!" Hermione shrieked, appalled.

Draco looked highly offended. "Why not?"

"Because, Malfoy," she began, this time more slowly, "I don't kiss people simply for pleasure, I do it because I'm attracted to them, and more than just physically. I'm guessing that's something _you_ wouldn't understand."

"Don't act like you know me, Granger," he hissed.

"Oh, but don't I?" she challenged, thinking of what she had read out of his diary that morning.

"No, you know nothing. My own father barely knows me," said Draco in a quiet, stony voice.

Hermione stared at him, wondering just what was going on in that head of his. Suddenly, he yanked her back to their conversation.

"Just once, Granger. One time, that's all." He smiled at her suggestively and lightly ran a finger down her arm.

Her nostrils flared in anger while her cheeks burned bright pink. "You stay away from me, Malfoy! I'm warning you!"

"Oh, com'on now! Just one little snog, that's all," he pushed. "I promise I won't bite. Well," he paused seductively, "Maybe."

Hermione stood up and began walking away from him, at which point Draco followed suit and stopped her by the arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to find out what happens?" He was back to that serious tone again, and it made Hermione nervous.

"Yes, I'm positive," she answered with gritted teeth, ripping her arm away from him again. "Stay away from me, or I promise I'll bring that hex upon you faster than you can say Gryffindor!" With that, she stalked out of the dorm and fled down the hall. Draco watched her retreating form with motionless eyes. Somewhere, deep in the pit of his black heart, he had been hurt by her words. But on a more superficial level, no girl had ever turned him down before. They were always more than willing to take him up on his offers, but this shocked him. Hermione didn't _want_ him. It was so simple, yet it left a hefty sting. Draco had a feeling that any hex she gave him wouldn't be quite as painful as this.

Taking him out of his reverie, Hermione stormed back into the room and walked right up to him. She briefly stared at him and then bent down to pick up the abandoned book. "I forgot this," she stated. Draco did not protest and she swiftly fled once again.

That night at dinner, everyone was happy to have Ron (and his lips) back to normal.

"So, Hermione, did you ever…erm…find out why Malfoy hexed me this morning?" he asked her tentatively, unsure of whether or not they were on speaking terms.

She snapped her head up suddenly and stared at him wide-eyed, half because of the surprise that he was not ignoring her out of awkwardness and half because she was afraid he would find out the truth. "Uh…I don't know," she fumbled, not wanting to give away that she knew exactly why Draco gave him a fat lip. "I never asked him, and even if I did, he probably wouldn't tell me."

Ron frowned, but looked considerably more relaxed than he had when he first sat down. "Hm, I thought you would have done some kind of investigating or interrogation or something. Stupid prat…just wait til I get my hands on that little son of a—"

"Ronald, you can't perform magic to get _revenge_," Hermione warned him in her authoritative voice, trying desperately to change the subject.

"But he gave me a gigantic lip!" the speckled Gryffindor shouted in outrage. "I'm not just going to let him have his fun our last year at Hogwarts—this is the year Harry and I get back at him for all he's done to us!"

"Just wait until summer, you'll have all the time you need then," she suggested hopefully.

"No way, we're going to humiliate him in front of the whole school!" Ron protested. "Right, Harry?"

"Yeah," he chimed in, "there's no way Malfoy is getting out of here without some kind of abnormality. If we're lucky, we can ship him off to St. Mungo's and never see him again, just like good ole' Lockheart!"

"Harry, that's an awful thing to say!" Hermione cried.

Harry and Ron stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Exactly," Ron began slowly, as if trying to explain something obvious to a dumb blond. "Malfoy _is_ an awful git, therefore we will do something awful _to_ him."

Afraid that her overly-inquisitive friends would catch on, Hermione fell silent. She didn't want to seem like she was protecting Draco, because only God knew why in the world she would do _that_, especially after what had just happened in the Head common room, but for some odd reason she felt compelled to keep him away from harm, just like he had done for her that summer. First would be the hatred she felt when he hexed Ron or did something equally enraging, and then, suddenly, as if her true feelings were surfacing, a voice inside would want to make sure that he was safe from her bad-tempered friends. The feelings were conflicting, but somehow added up. And she was having a right fit trying to keep all of them from mixing on the surface. Harry and Ron would think she'd gone loony, not to mention suicidal. If they knew any of the emotions raging inside of her at the moment, Hermione knew that there was no way a normal friendship could be salvaged. Becoming friendly, if that's what you would call it, with Draco Malfoy was just not something that could be accepted or understood, especially by two Gryffindors who were mortal enemies with the bloke. She feared that all would be lost if they knew the truth. Therefore, she decided, the truth would remain between herself and Twink, the only confidant she had who would not judge her. This thought only made her more depressed than she already was. Even her own self thought she was going batty. Why in the world did she want to protect Draco Malfoy?

Just as predicted, the exact feelings she was currently dwelling on came bubbling to the surface, part of the aftermath of her latest spat with Draco over the library book. Instead of wanting to attack every inch of his body she could lay her hands on, now Hermione wanted to make sure _no one_, not even herself, hexed him. And for some odd reason, she knew that she never _would_ hex him. Perhaps that was just her logical, Head Girl instincts catching up with her, but either way, these strange feelings were beginning to scare her.

Knowing she was going to lose all capabilities for emotional self-control anytime now, Hermione abruptly stood from the table and trotted out the doors, walking as quickly as possible to her dorm. It was almost the time of night that Draco would write in his diary; if only she could get something out of it to confirm these insane feelings…perhaps the Slytherin King was feeling them too? If he kept to his routine, Hermione would know soon enough.

Before her quest for answers, though, the two Heads had some tutoring to catch up on. Neglecting to do their studies the night before proved to be extremely hindering in the precise schedule Hermione had constructed to keep them up to date. Now they had twice the workload and half the time. And it seemed that a certain blond-haired git didn't feel like showing up on time that particular evening. Hermione checked her watch for the twelfth time when Draco finally came strolling in at a quarter to seven.

"And just what makes you think you can just show up late to our tutoring session?" Hermione chastised once the door swung shut. "Just because you have no regards for schoolwork doesn't mean—"

"Would you shut that bloody mouth of yours for one second, Granger?" Draco cut her off, clearly irritated. "For your information, I just got back from having a nice little chat with McGonagall."

_Oh no!_ Hermione thought, her eyes going wide. _He actually went to her and asked to stop tutoring! She's going to think I'm a horrible teacher! I can't believe that prat!_

"Erm…what did you talk about?" she asked nervously, biting her bottom lip.

"Well, I told her that you were an excellent teacher and that we had already gotten through all of my lessons. Therefore, I explained that we did not need to continue with our tutoring sessions," he answered. Hermione gazed at him in surprised amazement.

"You…you said I was an excellent teacher?" she asked quietly in awe.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger, I only did it to suck up to McGonagall," Malfoy said, sneering. "She _obviously_ already thinks that you are one, so I knew that coming from _me_ it would mean something to the old bat. Didn't have to ask twice if we could end them." Draco glanced at her out of the corner of this eye, checking to see if she was buying all of this.

Now there were countless feelings flying through Hermione's mind: she was elated that Draco had complimented her, even if it was for his own benefit that he had spoke with McGonagall; she was slightly disappointed (although she had no clue why) that the tutoring sessions were now over; she was angry that Draco had lied to Professor McGonagall and that he had not included her in his plan; and finally, she was still feeling the overwhelming urge to protect him…but not only that, now she felt like she should be _nice_ to him. Hermione was getting rather tired of all these conflicting emotions. She got dizzy thinking about them and held the sides of her head for a moment, as if trying to steady herself. This was not like her; it was not normal. Even Draco noticed her odd behavior. He glanced at her again, waiting for her to respond with some witty comeback. When none came he began to worry that she was processing some sort of idea. If that were so, he needed to distract her, make her lose her train of thought.

"You alright, Granger?" he said with narrowed eyes, almost like he was interrogating her instead of asking a simple question. He held a brief, comical smile. "That head of yours getting a bit too big to handle?"

Hermione glared up at him. Now the anger was back. "What in the world did you do that for? You are far, far away from being done with Arithmancy; we still have half of the book left! And what this about meeting secretly with Professor McGonagall?! Even coming from you, she's going to think I'm some half-wit who's given up on you!"

"Relax, she said it was fine," Draco replied nonchalantly. "Honestly, McGonagall has _no idea_ that we haven't finished. She has no idea about _anything_, really."

Hermione did not catch on. "I don't care! Merlin's beard, I am not giving up on you, Draco Malfoy! You are going to finish these lessons if it kills me, and you are going to pass, and you are going to graduate!" She was now standing at full height, fists clenched tightly in determination. The Head Boy across from her looked utterly bewildered.

"I—I…Granger—"

"Here," Hermione said, pulling out a chair for him and pushing him down into it, "have a seat. We are going to go over everything you've missed and then some. I'm not giving up on you, Malfoy. I know you might think that we'll never be able to finish and that you're a lost cause or something, but you're not. You can do this, I know you can. And you don't need to make up stories about talking with Professor McGonagall just to slip out of it, alright? We may not like each other, but academics are more important that any arguments we've had."

_Ahh, so that's it! Granger thinks I'm giving up because it's just too hard on me! That stupid Mudblood can't get anything through that thick skull of hers anymore, can she? I don't want to quit because it's difficult, I want to quit because it's pointless and I can. Just because Father thinks it will be a useful tool to help us become nice little pals doesn't mean I share the same sentiments. And I certainly am not doing it for the knowledge; I learned all I need to know growing up in the Malfoy Manor. But how am I going to convince Miss Perfect of that? She didn't take the first bait I offered, even though it was true. I suppose I'll have to resort to my old past-time. I'll lie._

"Listen, I'm not trying to get out of this because it's too difficult," Draco began firmly. "It's just that I've taken on a few extra classes and I'm tutoring with some other professors, so now I don't have the time. McGonagall said it was alright to take it back up this summer."

Hermione cocked her head slightly, looking confused. "You're taking _more_ classes?"

"Yes, I am," he said coolly.

"Oh," she muttered, sounding dejected but vaguely impressed. "Well, then I suppose that's fine. I have some homework to do anyway."

Draco watched as Hermione retrieved her book bag and began scribbling on a piece of parchment that he guessed was for their upcoming Potions essay. His conjecture was confirmed when the ominous book from the library was brought to the tabletop and opened. At first, he wanted to reach out and snatch it to start another fight, but Draco kept his hands to himself this time. For some reason he felt as if he had hurt Hermione, but it wasn't enough for him to dwell on for more than a minute. He shook the feeling and got to his own studies.

"Anything yet, Twink?" Hermione asked her book-friend anxiously for the third time since she'd gotten into bed.

Twink sighed. "Not yet. Perhaps Mister Malfoy has already fallen asleep."

"No, he can't have, he always brushes his teeth right before he shuts off his lights," the Head Girl said assuredly. "I can hear the water running from here."

"Ooo, looks like someone has the little blondie's routine memorized!" the book teased laughingly.

"Hey, I have been living with the git for half a year, I'm bound to recognize _some_ things!" Hermione jumped to her own defense. She thumbed through a few pages that had transformed themselves into sections from a Transfiguration book she needed for another essay. She had decided to get a head start while waiting for Draco's diary to appear, so Hermione was absentmindedly scribbling down notes and topic sentences while Twink kept her entertained.

"So why are you interested in what he's going to write tonight?" she asked Hermione, trying to sound nonchalant.

Twink's owner heaved a great sigh and closed the book so she could see her face. "Well, it's kind of a long story."

"So go on! Malfoy's not doing anything we care about yet, so let's hear it Missy!" the book chirped excitedly.

"Ok, well, I've been having these odd feelings lately and I can't explain them. One minute I want to mutilate Malfoy for one reason or another, and the next I feel like I need to protect him from Ron and Harry. One day I want to spend time with him, the next I can't get away from him quickly enough. I just don't understand it. He's been awful to me ever since I met him, and now it feels like I should be…I dunno, _nice_ to him or something."

"Hmm…." Twink contemplated thoughtfully. "Well, there can only be two causes of these strange feelings, as far as I know anyway. One, for some reason unbeknownst to either of us, you have developed feelings for Malfoy, and seriously confusing ones at that. Or two, someone somewhere has placed a jinx upon you or slipped you something that is attempting to take you into the feelings of someone who likes Malfoy romantically, and out of your own emotions. I think I remember coming across a jinx like that a long time ago…"

"I'm certain it's not on my _own_ accord!" Hermione exclaimed firmly. "There's no way I could feel that for—for that pureblood prick!" She spoke the last words with intense loathing and gave an involuntary shudder. After a pause, she continued.

"So you're saying that someone has bewitched me into liking Malfoy? And it's slowly but surely taking over my true feelings and replacing them?"

Twink nodded. "That's exactly what I think. Knowing you as well as I can for the amount of time we've spent together, I can tell that you really don't like this bloke, so I think we can rule out the first option. The only thing is, who would want you liking Malfoy?"

Hermione frowned. She was all for Twink's assumption moments before, but now that she actually thought it through, she could find no one in her realm of knowledge that would want her romantically interested in Draco Malfoy. The mere thought was miles beyond her comprehension; how could _anyone_ fancy someone so cold-hearted and cruel?

"I have no idea," Hermione answered a little belatedly. "The only person I can think of is Malfoy himself, if just for some sick, twisted pleasure of seeing me finally admit to his insane notion that I fancy him."

"He thinks you like him?" Twink questioned, interest piqued.

"Does he ever! He repeats the phrase so often, I'm half expecting him to turn into a bloody parrot!" the bushy-haired girl answered, a look of exasperation on her pretty features. "_Every_ time I see him, and I'm not exaggerating on that point, he's bound to ask, 'You fancy me, don't you, Granger? Like getting this close to me, do you? I knew you always fancied me," blah blah blah! I don't get why he believes that either, I've never given him an ounce of affection whatsoever in the seven years I've known him. Perhaps he just wants to know that he can attract all types of witches, even Mudbloods…"

Twink let out a small gasp. "Hermione, don't call yourself that! You're smarter and braver than any other witch I've ever met! That git can't even begin to compare with you, and don't you go thinking he's better just because he's got 'pure' blood! Besides, I'm sure he's just giving you a go, he seems to rather like ruffling your feathers."

Hermione gave a feeble smile at the compliment and then a small sigh. "Well, whatever these feelings are, I do hope they go away soon. I was perfectly happy with bickering and ignoring each other."

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal soon, Hermione. In the mean time, why don't I do a little searching for that jinx I'm thinking of? If we can find out what's causing all this ruckus, maybe we can get rid of it before any damage is done."

"Thanks, Twink, that would be great!" Hermione replied, beaming. "Can I still do my homework while you look? If not, it can wait."

"Oh sure! I can even keep talking while I look; I'm highly skilled in the area of multitasking, you know." The book gave a little wink, and the face shut its eyes and scrunched up its forehead, apparently concentrating very hard on something. At the same time, the book glowed a soft, golden color, lifted momentarily from Hermione's hands, and vibrated slightly. Then, all at once, it dropped back down and returned to smiling at its owner.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, looking worried. "Are you alright?"

Twink chuckled in amusement. "I'm fine! I just had to gear up my pages to prepare them for mass searching. I've cleared them of everything so there's ample room to search. Well, everything except your homework, of course."

"Wonderful! I'll get back to work, then, so you can look."

"Right! Wish me luck!"

Hermione did so with a grin, and then the two fell silent as they delved into their respective endeavors.

Suddenly, after a half hour of silent work, Twink squealed in excitement from her position on the front cover.

"Hermione! Quickly, to the front page, Malfoy's writing in his diary!"

All thoughts for Transfiguration and mysterious love charms were thrown out of Hermione's mind as she flipped to the page in mention, not needing another word of persuasion. Only one thought plagued her mind as her fingers clutched the edges of the worn book in anticipation: _Did Malfoy feel the same way?_

Hopelessly staring at the page Twink had told her to turn to, which had no writing on it, Hermione began to panic. This could not be a good sign. Where was the familiar slanted black writing?

"Twink, what's going on?!" she nearly yelled in a strangled voice. In utter desperation, Hermione picked up the book and glanced briefly at all sides of it, evidently thinking that Draco's words would appear on the outside covers or spine. Of course, they did not, and neither were they found on the still blank page at the very front of the book.

"I don't know!" Twink answered, clearly just as confused as Hermione. "He was writing, I swear I saw it! It was the date—"

Then, just as the Head Girl was about to fly from her room and barge into Draco's, slanted, black words began to appear at the top of the page, forming the date.

"Wait—there it is!" Hermione enthused. "Guess he took a break?"

Twink did not answer as the two of them focused solely on the writing they had been waiting for all evening.

_October 17__th_

_Had a run-in with the Weasel today. Shot him an Enlarging Jinx—he had a fat lip for the rest of the day! Made Granger pretty upset, so I suppose it did what I needed it to! Although, it is regrettable that she figured out why I had done it…but, then again, she is so bloody proud, gotta figure out everything all the time or the world falls apart…what a priss. Anyway, then she stole a book from me (her and her BOOKS!) and proceeded to run away from me. Sadly, but most amusedly, she forgot that I am much taller, and therefore much faster, so I caught her as soon as we got into the common room. Then, something peculiar happened. For some odd reason, I felt compelled to ask her whether being with me was better than being with Weasley! I've got no clue what I was thinking, but she said no, she liked the Weasel better. Some weird feeling came through me then, made me want to kill Weasley, actually kill him, just because of his connection with Granger. I wanted to…protect her from him. It was the strangest thing. Then she said she didn't want to kiss me. Imagine! Any woman turning down a Malfoy! It's lunacy, I tell you! But then I saw her at dinner tonight and I felt that weird protective emotion again when I saw that she was talking to Potter and Weasley. What she sees in them is beyond me…I can't shake this feeling, though. I don't feel like myself and now I want to be nice to Granger. Yeah, you heard me. NICE! SODDING NICE! There is something seriously deranged in my head. And to think, the stupid Mudblood doesn't even know about McGonagall. I gave her a clear hint tonight, but I don't think she caught it. I don't know why I gave her one, I just felt like she should know, but Father obviously won't like that…I wonder how his feeble little plan is going. He's probably forcing some old Deathbag into doing his bidding again. Yeah, like that'll work! I'm surprised nobody's found out about him, either, the way he carries on like a free man. But like I said, I'm staying out this time unless he tries to kill me again. Stupid man can't even do it right the first time, but then I guess that was partly Granger's doing. She is a rather effective distraction. At least it forced him to come to his senses and let me live! Well, I've got a Potions essay to write—bloody hell, that Mudblood's still got my book! More later._

_**Draco**_

Hermione shut the book after his name had finished penning itself. She stared at Twink, who stared right back. So many thoughts were going through her mind at the same time, and she had no idea where to start first.

"It looks like you were right, Twink," Hermione finally said. "Malfoy is having the exact same feelings that I am! I wonder who's doing this to us."

"I knew it was a jinx! I think I had just about found it when he started writing," Twink agreed with a hopeful smile. "Let me get back to searching and see if I can—"

"Wait!" the Head Girl interrupted, suddenly realizing something. "The last time Malfoy wrote, he said something about his father then, too…it sounds as if Lucius is trying to…Merlin's Beard, Twink, I think his father is trying to break out of Azkaban again!"

"_Again_?" the book said, shocked.

"Yes, he tried once before, over the…the summer," Hermione replied, stuttering a bit at the mention of the eventful holiday.

"He did?! Well, for Heaven's sake, girl, why didn't you tell me! What happened?"

"Well, it's an even longer story than the one I just told you," she warned half-heartedly, not really wanting to re-live the occasion for the second time that weekend.

"And…I'm guessing it's a little more complicated and troubling?"

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, just a little."

"You don't have to tell me, you know; only if you want to."

"No, you should know. Goodness knows I'm going to need help through this catastrophe that's about to unfold. And, knowing Malfoy, that would probably be an understatement."

Twink grinned. "Alright, then, let's hear this adventurous tale!"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to speak.

Unfortunately for them both, she did not get the chance to even form one word, for the subject of their conversation barged through the door at that precise moment.

Hermione let out a yelp and tried to pull up her covers as fast as she could. In her haste, though, she suddenly tumbled over the edge of her bed and landed in a heap on the floor, lost amidst the fluffy down comforter. Twink was unceremoniously thrown aside as well, and was now laying face-down across the room.

"Malfoy—what'er you—where did you go—?!" Hermione shouted in all directions, completely blind under the darkness of the duvet. She heard a stifled snicker and a rustling of paper, which she guessed were coming from the top of her bed, and then heavy footsteps approaching her. In one swift motion, the comforter was lifted off her head and put back on the bed.

"Having fun under there, Granger?" Draco grinned down at her.

Giving him a glare, Hermione didn't respond, but simply stared at him with narrowed slits for eyes. They opened quite wide, though, when she noticed the book resting in his arms. That explained the rustling of sheets; he had sifted through the parchment on her bed.

"Hey, I wasn't finished with that, Malfoy!" she growled, standing up to face him.

"Well, I seem to recall that I wasn't finished with it either when _you_ decided to steal it from me," he retaliated.

"I did not _steal_ it!" Hermione shouted indignantly, her mouth a hard line and fists clenched by her sides.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have mistaken your snatching it and running quickly away for some type of silly 'catch me' type of game!" Draco smirked at her glowering form.

"What are you doing in here?" she changed the subject abruptly.

"Getting my book, of course," he answered, holding it up and staring at her as if she were daft. "And now I'll be leaving." He turned to do so when she reached out and stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Wait!"

Draco looked back at her, eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, well, aren't we very _friendly_ tonight. I thought you didn't fancy me, Granger. Or has that changed now?"

"Belt up, Malfoy!" Hermione sneered angrily. She was in no mood to deal with his insane theories. After taking a deep breath, she finished. "Look, I just need to…erm, well, there's something I need to ask you, actually." She released his arm finally and glanced down at her feet, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Confused and curious at the same time, Draco scrutinized her carefully, trying to figure out if this was some type of ploy to get the book back. She seemed to read his mind.

"And no, I'm not trying to get the sodding book back!" she said as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Alright, Granger, I'm listening." Draco took a seat on the edge of her bed and waited, eyeing her warily.

Hermione began wringing her hands together nervously and paced a little in the space around her bed, apparently thinking over how she was going to word her question.

_Oh, just get on with it, will you? I haven't got all night to watch you work yourself into a sweat, Mudblood. It can't be that important, can it? Probably just some idiotic question about whether or not McGonagall has grown another inch or appendage… _Draco silently thought to himself as he watched her move about rapidly.

"Listen, am I going to be spending the night here, or are you going to ask me your bloody question?" he said in exasperation.

Hermione stopped pacing and turned to face him, an annoyed frown on her face. "Fine, then, I'll just come right out and say it," she obliged. Looking him straight in the eye, and wearing a very serious expression, she said, "I think someone has jinxed us."

Draco stared at her blankly, evidently under the impression that she was kidding. "You think someone has jinxed us." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I do," Hermione confirmed once again. "Haven't you been having some odd feelings lately?"

He stopped fiddling with his hands and snapped his head up to look at her, his steely grey eyes wide. _How does she know about that?! I thought I was hiding those stupid feelings rather well!_ Draco thought frantically.

"No, I'm not having odd _feelings_, Granger!" he spat irritably. Hermione put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to see into his mind.

"You know, for someone with years of practice on their side, you don't make a convincing liar when you're alone."

He glared at her hard, and she stared right back. They were like that, unblinking, for a few moments until Draco looked away, his fists balling at his sides. He was quiet, then spoke in a soft but bitter tone.

"So what are we going to do?"

Hermione let her hands drop to her sides as she eased up away from him. She gave a small smile at the top of his head; Draco was staring determinedly at the floor, anywhere but her face.

"Well, I've been having them too, so I decided to do a little research on the subject."

Draco snorted a little too loudly and muttered, "Surprise, surprise."

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued. "Anyway, I've been looking up jinxes and charms and stuff, most of them concerning love spells and mind tampering." She was almost pleading with him to make some sort of input now, he could tell. Sighing, he obliged her.

"And? Have you found anything useful yet?"

"Well, no, not yet. I just figured this out today, Malfoy! How in the world am I supposed to have found the cure yet? I don't even know what jinx has been used on us!" she replied, frustrated with herself and him.

Draco let out a low growl of irritation. "Bloody hell, Granger, you just set me up for that!"

"What?" her question was quick and sharp; she had been pacing again, deep in thought.

"It seems to me that you just want someone to let your anger out on!" he snarled, getting back up. "Well you can forget that, I'm going to bed."

"Wait, Malfoy, no!" Hermione yelped suddenly, grabbing his upper arm. Her small hand was nothing against his well-shaped biceps, but he stopped all the same.

"I…didn't mean it, I'm just frustrated with whoever did this to us. I wish I knew what it was or—or _something_!" she cried, throwing up her hands in defeat and plopping down on the bed. Her body sagged into a slumped posture.

"Look…," Draco began, feeling uncommonly sympathetic. He also felt like…protecting her, and he was painfully aware of it. He suddenly felt a surge of anger similar to Hermione's. He wanted these emotions _gone_, no matter who sent them or what their motive was. "I'll help you look if you want. We can go to the library after classes tomorrow."

She glanced up to see him standing directly in front of her, his brows furrowed in anticipation over what she'd say. Hermione couldn't resist the same feeling to protect that Draco was being influenced by, so she was oddly comfortable with him looking at her that way. It was as if they had never been sworn enemies at all. And it wasn't just protection anymore, she felt something else bubbling up inside of her—attraction. Romantic attraction.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Hermione hadn't been clearly aware of the fact that they were not real feelings. Now that she knew it was all the cause of some random jinx, her brain consciously understood the emotions to be false. Unfortunately, that did not lessen their effect on her. Try as she might, there was no fighting them. She wondered if Draco was getting them at the same time as her.

"Do you feel that?" she barely whispered, staring straight into his glassy orbs.

He gulped and breathed deeply, staring back again. Draco nodded almost imperceptibly, but Hermione saw it.

"I feel immensely attracted to you, Granger," he said, sounding surprised himself.


	7. Fatal Attractions

"Anything yet, Twink?" Hermione asked her book-friend anxiously for the third time since she'd gotten into bed.

Twink sighed. "Not yet. Perhaps Mister Malfoy has already fallen asleep."

"No, he can't have, he always brushes his teeth right before he shuts off his lights," the Head Girl said assuredly. "I can hear the water running from here."

"Ooo, looks like someone has the little blondie's routine memorized!" the book teased laughingly.

"Hey, I have been living with the git for half a year, I'm bound to recognize _some_ things!" Hermione jumped to her own defense. She thumbed through a few pages that had transformed themselves into sections from a Transfiguration book she needed for another essay. She had decided to get a head start while waiting for Draco's diary to appear, so Hermione was absentmindedly scribbling down notes and topic sentences while Twink kept her entertained.

"So why are you interested in what he's going to write tonight?" she asked Hermione, trying to sound nonchalant.

Twink's owner heaved a great sigh and closed the book so she could see her face. "Well, it's kind of a long story."

"So go on! Malfoy's not doing anything we care about yet, so let's hear it Missy!" the book chirped excitedly.

"Ok, well, I've been having these odd feelings lately and I can't explain them. One minute I want to mutilate Malfoy for one reason or another, and the next I feel like I need to protect him from Ron and Harry. One day I want to spend time with him, the next I can't get away from him quickly enough. I just don't understand it. He's been awful to me ever since I met him, and now it feels like I should be…I dunno, _nice_ to him or something."

"Hmm…." Twink contemplated thoughtfully. "Well, there can only be two causes of these strange feelings, as far as I know anyway. One, for some reason unbeknownst to either of us, you have developed feelings for Malfoy, and seriously confusing ones at that. Or two, someone somewhere has placed a jinx upon you or slipped you something that is attempting to take you into the feelings of someone who likes Malfoy romantically, and out of your own emotions. I think I remember coming across a jinx like that a long time ago…"

"I'm certain it's not on my _own_ accord!" Hermione exclaimed firmly. "There's no way I could feel that for—for that pureblood prick!" She spoke the last words with intense loathing and gave an involuntary shudder. After a pause, she continued.

"So you're saying that someone has bewitched me into liking Malfoy? And it's slowly but surely taking over my true feelings and replacing them?"

Twink nodded. "That's exactly what I think. Knowing you as well as I can for the amount of time we've spent together, I can tell that you really don't like this bloke, so I think we can rule out the first option. The only thing is, who would want you liking Malfoy?"

Hermione frowned. She was all for Twink's assumption moments before, but now that she actually thought it through, she could find no one in her realm of knowledge that would want her romantically interested in Draco Malfoy. The mere thought was miles beyond her comprehension; how could _anyone_ fancy someone so cold-hearted and cruel?

"I have no idea," Hermione answered a little belatedly. "The only person I can think of is Malfoy himself, if just for some sick, twisted pleasure of seeing me finally admit to his insane notion that I fancy him."

"He thinks you like him?" Twink questioned, interest piqued.

"Does he ever! He repeats the phrase so often, I'm half expecting him to turn into a bloody parrot!" the bushy-haired girl answered, a look of exasperation on her pretty features. "_Every_ time I see him, and I'm not exaggerating on that point, he's bound to ask, 'You fancy me, don't you, Granger? Like getting this close to me, do you? I knew you always fancied me," blah blah blah! I don't get why he believes that either, I've never given him an ounce of affection whatsoever in the seven years I've known him. Perhaps he just wants to know that he can attract all types of witches, even Mudbloods…"

Twink let out a small gasp. "Hermione, don't call yourself that! You're smarter and braver than any other witch I've ever met! That git can't even begin to compare with you, and don't you go thinking he's better just because he's got 'pure' blood! Besides, I'm sure he's just giving you a go, he seems to rather like ruffling your feathers."

Hermione gave a feeble smile at the compliment and then a small sigh. "Well, whatever these feelings are, I do hope they go away soon. I was perfectly happy with bickering and ignoring each other."

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal soon, Hermione. In the mean time, why don't I do a little searching for that jinx I'm thinking of? If we can find out what's causing all this ruckus, maybe we can get rid of it before any damage is done."

"Thanks, Twink, that would be great!" Hermione replied, beaming. "Can I still do my homework while you look? If not, it can wait."

"Oh sure! I can even keep talking while I look; I'm highly skilled in the area of multitasking, you know." The book gave a little wink, and the face shut its eyes and scrunched up its forehead, apparently concentrating very hard on something. At the same time, the book glowed a soft, golden color, lifted momentarily from Hermione's hands, and vibrated slightly. Then, all at once, it dropped back down and returned to smiling at its owner.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, looking worried. "Are you alright?"

Twink chuckled in amusement. "I'm fine! I just had to gear up my pages to prepare them for mass searching. I've cleared them of everything so there's ample room to search. Well, everything except your homework, of course."

"Wonderful! I'll get back to work, then, so you can look."

"Right! Wish me luck!"

Hermione did so with a grin, and then the two fell silent as they delved into their respective endeavors.

Suddenly, after a half hour of silent work, Twink squealed in excitement from her position on the front cover.

"Hermione! Quickly, to the front page, Malfoy's writing in his diary!"

All thoughts for Transfiguration and mysterious love charms were throw out of Hermione's mind as she flipped to the page in mention, not needing another word of persuasion. Only one thought plagued her mind as her fingers clutched the edges of the worn book in anticipation: _Did Malfoy feel the same way?_

Hopelessly staring at the page Twink had told her to turn to, which had no writing on it, Hermione began to panic. This could not be a good sign. Where was the familiar slanted black writing?

"Twink, what's going on?!" she nearly yelled in a strangled voice. In utter desperation, Hermione picked up the book and glanced briefly at all sides of it, evidently thinking that Draco's words would appear on the outside covers or spine. Of course, they did not, and neither were they found on the still blank page at the very front of the book.

"I don't know!" Twink answered, clearly just as confused as Hermione. "He was writing, I swear I saw it! It was the date—"

Then, just as the Head Girl was about to fly from her room and barge into Draco's, slanted, black words began to appear at the top of the page, forming the date.

"Wait—there it is!" Hermione enthused. "Guess he took a break?"

Twink did not answer as the two of them focused solely on the writing they had been waiting for all evening.

_October 17__th_

_Had a run-in with the Weasel today. Shot him an Enlarging Jinx—he had a fat lip for the rest of the day! Made Granger pretty upset, so I suppose it did what I needed it to! Although, it is regrettable that she figured out why I had done it…but, then again, she is so bloody proud, gotta figure out everything all the time or the world falls apart…what a priss. Anyway, then she stole a book from me (her and her BOOKS!) and proceeded to run away from me. Sadly, but most amusedly, she forgot that I am much taller, and therefore much faster, so I caught her as soon as we got into the common room. Then, something peculiar happened. For some odd reason, I felt compelled to ask her whether being with me was better than being with Weasley! I've got no clue what I was thinking, but she said no, she liked the Weasel better. Some weird feeling came through me then, made me want to kill Weasley, actually kill him, just because of his connection with Granger. I wanted to…protect her from him. It was the strangest thing. Then she said she didn't want to kiss me. Imagine! Any woman turning down a Malfoy! It's lunacy, I tell you! But then I saw her at dinner tonight and I felt that weird protective emotion again when I saw that she was talking to Potter and Weasley. What she sees in them is beyond me…I can't shake this feeling, though. I don't feel like myself and now I want to be nice to Granger. Yeah, you heard me. NICE! SODDING NICE! There is something seriously deranged in my head. And to think, the stupid Mudblood doesn't even know about McGonagall. I gave her a clear hint tonight, but I don't think she caught it. I don't know why I gave her one, I just felt like she should know, but Father obviously won't like that…I wonder how his feeble little plan is going. He's probably forcing some old Deathbag into doing his bidding again. Yeah, like that'll work! I'm surprised nobody's found out about him, either, the way he carries on like a free man. But like I said, I'm staying out this time unless he tries to kill me again. Stupid man can't even do it right the first time, but then I guess that was partly Granger's doing. She is a rather effective distraction. At least it forced him to come to his senses and let me live! Well, I've got a Potions essay to write—bloody hell, that Mudblood's still got my book! More later._

_**Draco**_

Hermione shut the book after his name had finished penning itself. She stared at Twink, who stared right back. So many thoughts were going through her mind at the same time, and she had no idea where to start first.

"It looks like you were right, Twink," Hermione finally said. "Malfoy is having the exact same feelings that I am! I wonder who's doing this to us."

"I knew it was a jinx! I think I had just about found it when he started writing," Twink agreed with a hopeful smile. "Let me get back to searching and see if I can—"

"Wait!" the Head Girl interrupted, suddenly realizing something. "The last time Malfoy wrote, he said something about his father then, too…it sounds as if Lucius is trying to…Merlin's Beard, Twink, I think his father is trying to break out of Azkaban again!"

"_Again_?" the book said, shocked.

"Yes, he tried once before, over the…the summer," Hermione replied, stuttering a bit at the mention of the eventful holiday.

"He did?! Well, for Heaven's sake, girl, why didn't you tell me! What happened?"

"Well, it's an even longer story than the one I just told you," she warned half-heartedly, not really wanting to re-live the occasion for the second time that weekend.

"And…I'm guessing it's a little more complicated and troubling?"

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, just a little."

"You don't have to tell me, you know; only if you want to."

"No, you should know. Goodness knows I'm going to need help through this catastrophe that's about to unfold. And, knowing Malfoy, that would probably be an understatement."

Twink grinned. "Alright, then, let's hear this adventurous tale!"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to speak.

Unfortunately for them both, she did not get the chance to even form one word, for the subject of their conversation barged through the door at that precise moment.

Hermione let out a yelp and tried to pull up her covers as fast as she could. In her haste, though, she suddenly tumbled over the edge of her bed and landed in a heap on the floor, lost amidst the fluffy down comforter. Twink was unceremoniously thrown aside as well, and was now laying face-down across the room.

"Malfoy—what'er you—where did you go—?!" Hermione shouted in all directions, completely blind under the darkness of the duvet. She heard a stifled snicker and a rustling of paper, which she guessed were coming from the top of her bed, and then heavy footsteps approaching her. In one swift motion, the comforter was lifted off her head and put back on the bed.

"Having fun under there, Granger?" Draco grinned down at her.

Giving him a glare, Hermione didn't respond, but simply stared at him with narrowed slits for eyes. They opened quite wide, though, when she noticed the book resting in his arms. That explained the rustling of sheets; he had sifted through the parchment on her bed.

"Hey, I wasn't finished with that, Malfoy!" she growled, standing up to face him.

"Well, I seem to recall that I wasn't finished with it either when _you_ decided to steal it from me," he retaliated.

"I did not _steal_ it!" Hermione shouted indignantly, her mouth a hard line and fists clenched by her sides.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have mistaken your snatching it and running quickly away for some type of silly 'catch me' type of game!" Draco smirked at her glowering form.

"What are you doing in here?" she changed the subject abruptly.

"Getting my book, of course," he answered, holding it up and staring at her as if she were daft. "And now I'll be leaving." He turned to do so when she reached out and stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Wait!"

Draco looked back at her, eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, well, aren't we very _friendly_ tonight. I thought you didn't fancy me, Granger. Or has that changed now?"

"Belt up, Malfoy!" Hermione sneered angrily. She was in no mood to deal with his insane theories. After taking a deep breath, she finished. "Look, I just need to…erm, well, there's something I need to ask you, actually." She released his arm finally and glanced down at her feet, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Confused and curious at the same time, Draco scrutinized her carefully, trying to figure out if this was some type of ploy to get the book back. She seemed to read his mind.

"And no, I'm not trying to get the sodding book back!" she said as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Alright, Granger, I'm listening." Draco took a seat on the edge of her bed and waited, eyeing her warily.

Hermione began wringing her hands together nervously and paced a little in the space around her bed, apparently thinking over how she was going to word her question.

_Oh, just get on with it, will you? I haven't got all night to watch you work yourself into a sweat, Mudblood. It can't be that important, can it? Probably just some idiotic question about whether or not McGonagall has grown another inch or appendage… _Draco silently thought to himself as he watched her move about rapidly.

"Listen, am I going to be spending the night here, or are you going to ask me your bloody question?" he said in exasperation.

Hermione stopped pacing and turned to face him, an annoyed frown on her face. "Fine, then, I'll just come right out and say it," she obliged. Looking him straight in the eye, and wearing a very serious expression, she said, "I think someone has jinxed us."

Draco stared at her blankly, evidently under the impression that she was kidding. "You think someone has jinxed us." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I do," Hermione confirmed once again. "Haven't you been having some odd feelings lately?"

He stopped fiddling with his hands and snapped his head up to look at her, his steely grey eyes wide. _How does she know about that?! I thought I was hiding those stupid feelings rather well!_ Draco thought frantically.

"No, I'm not having odd _feelings_, Granger!" he spat irritably. Hermione put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to see into his mind.

"You know, for someone with years of practice on their side, you don't make a convincing liar when you're alone."

He glared at her hard, and she stared right back. They were like that, unblinking, for a few moments until Draco looked away, his fists balling at his sides. He was quiet, then spoke in a soft but bitter tone.

"So what are we going to do?"

Hermione let her hands drop to her sides as she eased up away from him. She gave a small smile at the top of his head; Draco was staring determinedly at the floor, anywhere but her face.

"Well, I've been having them too, so I decided to do a little research on the subject."

Draco snorted a little too loudly and muttered, "Surprise, surprise."

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued. "Anyway, I've been looking up jinxes and charms and stuff, most of them concerning love spells and mind tampering." She was almost pleading with him to make some sort of input now, he could tell. Sighing, he obliged her.

"And? Have you found anything useful yet?"

"Well, no, not yet. I just figured this out today, Malfoy! How in the world am I supposed to have found the cure yet? I don't even know what jinx has been used on us!" she replied, frustrated with herself and him.

Draco let out a low growl of irritation. "Bloody hell, Granger, you just set me up for that!"

"What?" her question was quick and sharp; she had been pacing again, deep in thought.

"It seems to me that you just want someone to let your anger out on!" he snarled, getting back up. "Well you can forget that, I'm going to bed."

"Wait, Malfoy, no!" Hermione yelped suddenly, grabbing his upper arm. Her small hand was nothing against his well-shaped biceps, but he stopped all the same.

"I…didn't mean it, I'm just frustrated with whoever did this to us. I wish I knew what it was or—or _something_!" she cried, throwing up her hands in defeat and plopping down on the bed. Her body sagged into a slumped posture.

"Look…," Draco began, feeling uncommonly sympathetic. He also felt like…protecting her, and he was painfully aware of it. He suddenly felt a surge of anger similar to Hermione's. He wanted these emotions _gone_, no matter who sent them or what their motive was. "I'll help you look if you want. We can go to the library after classes tomorrow."

She glanced up to see him standing directly in front of her, his brows furrowed in anticipation over what she'd say. Hermione couldn't resist the same feeling to protect that Draco was being influenced by, so she was oddly comfortable with him looking at her that way. It was as if they had never been sworn enemies at all. And it wasn't just protection anymore, she felt something else bubbling up inside of her—attraction. Romantic attraction.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Hermione hadn't been clearly aware of the fact that they were not real feelings. Now that she knew it was all the cause of some random jinx, her brain consciously understood the emotions to be false. Unfortunately, that did not lessen their effect on her. Try as she might, there was no fighting them. She wondered if Draco was getting them at the same time as her.

"Do you feel that?" she barely whispered, staring straight into his glassy orbs.

He gulped and breathed deeply, staring back again. Draco nodded almost imperceptibly, but Hermione saw it.

"I feel immensely attracted to you, Granger," he said, sounding surprised himself.


	8. Side Effects

Hermione woke up in a cold sweat, a scream escaping her mouth as her eyes flew open. She slowly sat up and realized that she was halfway to her door, her bed sheets wrapped tightly around her body. _What in the world am I doing here?_ She thought in confusion. _I don't remember getting out of bed…_

Then it hit her, hard and strong, like a solid wave of the ocean was crashing down on her chest. She let out another scream as the pain swept through her in agonizing throbs, and she threw herself back on the ground. Gritting her teeth against it, Hermione crawled toward the door, opened it, and started inching down the stairs with shaky steps. For some reason, she felt that if she got to the common room, the throbbing would cease and she would be able to breathe normally; at the moment, she was gasping for air.

Another scream pierced the silence that was trying to suffocate Hermione, and she paused to listen. It came again, sounding much deeper and more agonizing than her own had. She was going to call out for help, but someone else beat her to it.

"GRANGER!"

Hermione winced as the loud noise just added to the ache in her head, but she finished her trip down the stairs and then proceeded to climb Draco's. Once at the top, while she was still reeling from the first wave of pain, she reached out to open the door when the second wave hurtled into her chest at full speed. It knocked her backwards into the door, forcing it open and landing her on the hard floor of Draco's dorm.

She immediately realized that he was lying next to her on his back, gasping for air just like she had been moments ago. Hermione ground her teeth together from the pain of falling on her back, but she noticed that her own breathing had returned to normal. She pushed the pulsing sting out of her mind and turned to look at Draco. It seemed that he was calming down as well, but soon he was glaring at Hermione with fierce anger.

"What. did. you. _do_?" he said in a low, dangerous voice. Hermione could see his forearms flex with tension and his veins stand out against his pale skin.

"I—I didn't do—it wasn't me!" she answered in a strangled voice; Hermione was trying very hard not to cry. "I felt that too!"

"What happened?" Draco breathed, reveling in the cool air that he did not have to gasp for.

Hermione sat on the cold floor, thinking over the past night and the extremely painful morning. It appeared that the intense throb had disappeared as soon as she was with Draco, and, evidently, the same went for him.

"I have no idea," she replied helplessly. "I just woke up screaming, and that _pain_…it was like my heart was being ripped out in little pieces."

Draco nodded beside her. "Yeah, exactly. Kind of like a heart attack or something—that's what I thought I was having."

"Then why did you yell my name?" Hermione said curiously.

"Well, I needed to get to Madame Pomphrey, didn't I? I was going to ask for your help." He sighed audibly, trying to cover up how sheepish he'd sounded.

"Are you still hurting?" the Head Girl asked in concern, hovering over Draco like Madame Pomphrey would have had she been there. _Must protect him…_Hermione's emotions told her.

"No. Are you?" He stared up at her, sweeping his eyes over her once to make sure.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine now that—" She suddenly gasped and stood up, her face conveying some type of revelation. "Draco! Get up, quickly!" Her excitement didn't even recognize the fact that she had used his first name, but he sure did. Draco's mouth fell open in shock. Impatient, Hermione rolled her eyes and reached down to pull him up.

"What is it…Granger?" he said tentatively, unsure if the name change had meant that he, too, had to use her proper name. Either way, he wasn't as comfortable with it as she was.

"We aren't in pain!" she cried joyously, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Draco went stiff as a board, too dumbfounded to move. First his name, now hugging. Since when did that happen_? Since these stupid emotions started playing games with us_, Draco thought. _But I don't…mind it. Not really, anyway. It's almost kind of…nice._ Slowly, he gave her a little pat on the back. He wasn't as sure as Hermione seemed to be.

"Yes, Granger, I'm aware of that fact," said Draco in confusion. "What about it?"

Hermione released him to look at his face, ecstasy still present in her expression. "Don't you see? We're fine now that we're _together_! That stupid jinx created a physical connection between us in conjunction with these strange feelings. We can't go very far from each other without being in pain!"

Draco's face screwed up in distaste; he didn't like the sound of that. "And why in the world are you happy about that?"

"Well, I'm not _happy_ about it, I'm just glad that I figured it out before we went through that again," she answered, still smiling. "Although…"

"Although, what?" said Draco sharply.

"We're going to have to figure out how far we can go."

He moaned in complaint. "No way! That was enough physical torment for one morning, thank you!"

"Malfoy, we have to!" Hermione disagreed. "Don't you want to know if we can at least go to the bathroom alone?"

That did it for him; he was all ears now. "Fine. Let's get this over with then."

She grinned at him, pleased with her persuasive methods.

It didn't take long for them to know their limits. Hermione stepped in one direction, Draco in another, until they were a little past the ends of the couch. A stabbing sensation sent the Head Girl to the ground, her knees buckling under the immense pain. Draco dealt with the same problem on his side of the room.

"Stop!" she gasped, clutching at her chest.

Draco was suddenly by her side, helping her up. "It's ok, it's over. That was about ten feet."

Hermione took her time breathing deeply. "Ten feet it is."

He smirked at her smugly. "I told you it was a bad idea."

"Yeah, well, it needed to be done."

"So, now what?"

She gasped loudly as she checked her watch and exclaimed, "Class! We're already late!"

Forgetting their predicament for the moment, Hermione ran off to get ready for the day, stopping only when she realized that Draco was following her up the flight of stairs. She stared at him in befuddlement for a second, then let out a low grumble from her throat.

"This is going to be _so_ annoying."

Draco grimaced. "No kidding."

They dressed in record time and were down to their first class in seconds, although that still made them nearly twenty minutes late. Luckily, or so only Draco thought (Hermione didn't like being late to _any_ class, they all mattered to her), they had Advanced Ancient Runes that morning. This meant he could forget about his dorm mate for a few hours and flirt with the gorgeous brunette he was partnered with. Plus, there was that semester-long project to distract him.

For Hermione, though, it was a different story entirely. Number one, she hated being late to class; number two, she hated being distracted while working on a huge project; and number three, she really hated being partnered with Pansy Parkinson. All she talked about was Draco Malfoy, and that was exactly who Hermione was trying to forget about. Of course, she couldn't _not_ think about him. The emotions that now constantly plagued her entire being did not like being ignored; in fact, they only got stronger the more she tried to resist them (or so she found out after attempting many times to suppress the attraction she felt for her fellow Head).

As she sat down in her chair heavily, Hermione sighed and rested her head on her desk. Her peace was interrupted, though, when she felt eyes boring into her. Without looking up, she spoke.

"What is it, Parkinson?"

Hermione was startled into an upright position as Pansy slammed a book down on her desk, a smug smile playing at her lips.

"I finished _my_ chapters," she answered proudly, an air of superiority seeping through her every pore. "You done with _yours_, Granger?"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Pansy Parkinson had finished her Ancient Runes translations. _Before_ her. Could her day get any worse? Correction, could her _life_ get any worse? She didn't want to think about the answer.

Her lack of response and astonished expression told Pansy what she wanted to know; a smirk appeared on her lips.

"Well, well, well, what do you know!" she drawled much too loudly, evidently intent upon everyone hearing her. "I never thought I'd see the day when I, _Pansy Parkinson_, beat Hermione Granger! Although, it was bound to happen sooner or later; I mean, honestly, brains can only get you so far when you're a Mudblood!" She started laughing heartily then, as if what she had said was the funniest thing on the planet. Hermione glared at her, gritting her teeth so hard that her mouth went numb. The only person _not_ laughing, excluding Professor Vector, who looked utterly perturbed, was a certain Slytherin boy. The absence of his distinct, arrogant laugh was very noticeable to Pansy, and she turned in his direction at once to inquire about it, annoyed that she had not elicited a reaction from him.

"Draco, isn't that funny?" Pansy demanded. "Granger actually failed! The stupid Mudblood lost! _I_ beat her!"

Hermione was also curious as to why Draco wasn't joining in with the laughter and taunting like he usually did, and she turned to view him as well.

Standing still but breathing hard, the Head Boy stared down at both of them, a look of complete fury etched on every angle of his face. With considerable shock, the two ladies realized it was directed at Pansy.

"Don't _ever_ call her that again," Draco spat evenly at her.

Pansy's mouth fell open and she was speechless for a moment before saying, "But Drakey—"

"Actually, if you ever _speak_ to her again, I'll make your life so miserable that you'll wish you were a Mud—er, Muggle-born," he continued. "So do yourself a favor and leave us alone. I told you it was over weeks ago, Parkinson, and it is. So get over it."

Pansy drew in a short and sudden gasp, her lip quivering as tears threatened to pour from her eyes. "But—but—I—," she stammered uselessly, glancing from Draco to Hermione and back again. With a final and ear-splitting squeal, Pansy flew from the classroom and out the door, slamming it forcefully behind her.

Hermione's shock was just as evident and complete as Pansy's had been, and she sat motionless in her desk for what seemed like hours, just gaping at Draco. He, on the other hand, acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and quickly seated himself and returned to his work. The rest of the class followed suit, all save Hermione. When she finally came out of her stupor and tore her eyes away from the mystery she was rooming with, she noticed that Pansy had left all of her translations on the desk. Happy if only for the moment, Hermione tucked them away into her bag and pulled out her own nearly finished notes.

The rest of the class wasn't very productive for her, though. Whenever she got stuck on a word or needed to get more parchment, Hermione would sneak a glance at Draco to see if he was behaving any differently. Must to her dismay though, he was always working diligently, and not once did he look up to return her frequent glances. _If he's going to keep this up all day, I'm certain I'll go crazy! I have every single class with him, and we always sit in such ways where I can stare at him! Why does my life enjoy torturing me so? Not only do I not have a partner for Ancient Runes, but now Malfoy is sending me the most incredibly mixed up messages I've ever seen! _She thought irritably. When the bell rang to let them out of class, Hermione left feeling more confused, more annoyed, and more angry than she had been since the beginning of term. _Men. I'll never understand them._

The day dragged on in two different time periods for Hermione—ones in which she was doing work, and ones in which she was staring at Draco. It didn't really matter which one she was in, considering all of her thoughts revolved around that boy no matter how important a particular lecture was. She was certain her obsession (yes, she had determined that she was definitely _obsessed_ now) was all a fabrication from the jinx she had yet to uncover, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. I mean, his face wasn't offending anyone, right? What did it hurt to study its every feature? And the new change in his feelings towards her weren't as intolerable as they had been before; she welcomed them now. In the back of her mind, of course, Hermione knew it was all lies and magic playing tricks on her, but for some reason she didn't want to leave the dream world she had become a part of. It felt oddly right to her that she should feel this way for Draco. And the main thought that clouded her mind as she stared at him all day was if he felt that way too.

The final bell of the day rang, breaking into another one of Hermione's thought processes. She hastily shoved her books into her bag and ran for the door, setting off to the common room as fast as her little legs would carry her. She definitely needed to get there before Draco so she could collect herself and figure out what to say. Sadly, after only ten feet or speed-walking, a racking pain harshly reminded Hermione about the unpleasant rule that now governed her every movement. She struggled against it for a moment, wanting very much to get away from Draco, but soon gave up; the pain was simply too much to bear without causing a scene. Reluctantly, Hermione waited for her roommate to round the corner so she could follow him unseen.

She was going to be waiting for a while, though, because Draco was lagging behind, taking as much time as possible to take step after step. Opposite of Hermione, he was dreading the talk they were bound to have once alone in their dorm. The things he had said that morning were purely jinx-induced, that he knew. Just the night before he was calling her a Mudblood in his mind, so why in the world would he suddenly change now? Therefore, Draco knew that it couldn't have been the real him telling Pansy off. I mean, he hated the girl, yes, but he would never miss an opportunity to rain on Granger's parade. The problem was that if Hermione asked him what his little speech was all about, he _knew_ he'd say something he didn't mean because of the jinx. Even if he had wanted to say something like, "I hate you and have no idea why I would tell Pansy to stop calling you a Mudblood!" he simply could not. The spell wouldn't allow his mouth to speak the words he desperately craved to hear come from his lips. Ok, well not desperately, but he missed being mean to her. The reactions it produced were some of his most prized possessions. A prickling sensation that felt like red-hot needles stabbing his skin began creeping up his arms and legs, letting Draco know that he was getting too far away from Hermione. Scowling angrily and cursing the jinx in his mind, he sped up until the pain subsided.

All too soon, Draco was in front of the painting with the lion and serpent. He stared at it for a while before it growled and hissed at him to say the password. Sighing, he mumbled, "Billywig," and entered the common room.

When he came in, Draco spotted Hermione at the work table, leaning over a piece of parchment upon which she was scribbling furiously. He tentatively took a seat across from her and retrieved some of his books to begin his homework. Silence ensued for quite some time, coming as a surprise to Draco, who had been expecting something along the lines of an interrogation. Now it was his turn to stop and glance at her every few seconds, and hers to ignore him entirely.

"Have you figured out how to get rid of the jinx yet?" he asked impulsively.

Hermione's quill paused, hovering above the parchment she was writing on. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching, as if she was trying to determine his motive behind this particular question.

"No, I haven't," she answered calmly. "If I had gone to the library, you would have been quite aware of it."

"Oh. Right," Draco lamely replied, feeling slightly stupid for not remembering. Hermione resumed her essay with her head bent low so her hair would cover her face; she did not want her peripheral vision taking sneaky sidelong glances at Draco when she needed to concentrate on the properties of Gillyweed. Unfortunately, her emotions were attempting to make this seemingly simple task very difficult.

On the other side of the table, Draco could not even focus enough to figure out what homework he still had left to do. Every time he would tell himself to get it together and think, his mind would unconsciously slip past the assignments he had stored in his memory and barrel straight towards Hermione. The main scene that was repeating itself over and over again was that of his daring rescue that summer. He couldn't help feeling quite proud of himself about the whole ordeal, and, even if it wasn't his favorite recollection, his new bothersome emotions told him it most definitely was.

"There," Hermione voiced, putting her quill down. "All done. Let's get to searching, then, shall we?"

With his thoughts still trying to rearrange themselves so he could properly understand what his roommate was saying, Draco barely had enough time to nod as Hermione got up and began walking purposefully towards the exit. He caught up with her and they left together, making their way to the library in absolute silence. Well, almost; Hermione decided to speak when they were about halfway there.

"I have a question," she stated suddenly.

This took Draco out of his reverie, so he didn't respond immediately. After a few second, though, he said, "Ask away, Granger."

"Well," Hermione began nervously. "I was wondering if…your feelings, er, the fake ones, had… intensified? Since yesterday, I mean?"

Draco was filled with relief on the inside. _So she felt the change too! Merlin, and I thought I was actually starting to like her! And besides, I'd rather her ask about anything other than this morning's incident…_

"A bit," he replied vaguely. "Why, have yours?"

She blushed brightly. "Yes. A lot."

Draco scowled. "And I'm guessing they aren't in the negative direction?"

Hermione frowned at his irritation, but sighed right along with him. "Unfortunately, no. Much the opposite, I'm afraid."

"Granger…," he started anxiously, shooting her a worried look. "I might…act like I want to, erm, _do_ things with you because of this jinx, and I want you to do your best to stop me because we both know that it's not something we truly want, and you're a whole lot better at self-control than I am, since I am male and all, so just try…"

If it was possible, Hermione turned a deeper shade of red than she had been moments before. "I'll, uh, do my best, Malfoy."

"And I might say some things I don't mean, so try not to take them literally and think I'm falling head over heels for you when I'm not. I mean, honestly, do try to be sensible about this whole thing. In reality, none of this would ever happen."

The Gryffindor beside him bawled her fists in anger, but soon released them in an effort to calm herself down.

"Of course," said Hermione through gritted teeth, the rage still evident in her tone. Draco smirked to himself at her annoyance.

Both Heads were quiet for a few minutes before the Gryffindor once again broke the stillness.

"I have another question," she stated, sounding a tad bit more nervous than before.

"You don't have to announce every time you want to ask something, Granger; just go ahead and say it," Draco complained.

"Alright then, if that's how you want it. Why did you stand up for me against Parkinson this morning?" Her words came out in such a rush, she wasn't sure if he had heard her clearly. Her worries ceased, though, when a look of utter shock passed over Draco's face.

"Oh crap," he blurted out.

Hermione's brow furrowed at him. "Excuse me?"

He turned to look at her in surprise, then seemed panic-stricken once again. "Did I just say that out loud?"

A grin spread across Hermione's face as she let out a small chuckle. "Yes, Malfoy, you did. But, honestly, you must have been expecting this at one point or another."

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, much resembling a small child who was intently focusing all his energy on wishing the scene away. Finally, after opening his eyes, he spoke.

"Look, I already told you, I can't control what I say when these bloody emotions take over. That's all that happened this morning. It didn't mean anything, so don't go reading into it."

Hermione couldn't help but be disappointed in his answer, but in reality, what had she been expecting? A declaration of his true, undying love for her? All he had done was yell at Pansy, it wasn't that big of deal. I mean, if Pansy hung on Hermione's arm all day and constantly pestered her, she would want to yell at her too. But still…he had stuck up for her in an area that he usually mastered. It easily could have been the emotions from the jinx talking, considering it was so drastically different from anything Malfoy had ever done, but there was something about it that told Hermione it was more. That they were more. Somehow, though, she knew Draco would never admit any of this to her, let alone to himself. This thought made her quite angry.

"Oh, you mean just like I shouldn't go reading into that jinx you gave Ron, or the way you were practically begging me to kiss you?" she snapped.

Draco's eyes darkened mutinously as he glared at her. Out of all the things he could say, all the insults he no doubt had up his sleeve, he simply muttered, "You're insane, Granger."

Hermione scowled at him and rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic, you know that?"

Staring straight ahead, he barely whispered, "I'm aware, Granger. I'm aware."

She gave him a curious side-long glance at the tone he spoke in. It was very subdued, and sounded like he was deep in thought in some other frame of mind. Looking at him fleetingly, she could have sworn that he seemed…sad. Kind of defeated or forlorn. Hermione couldn't make it out—why would he be feeling that way? She had no time to think this over, though, because at that moment the staircase they were walking down began to shift and she was forced to glue herself to a railing.

They walked the rest of the way in silence and arrived soon after Hermione's confusion had finally subsided for the time being.

"Where should—" Draco began to ask, stopping and waiting for her to do the same. He wasn't very surprised, though, when Hermione pushed past him and walked determinedly to the west corner of the room. _Should have known she'd have the whole place memorized; she practically lives here,_ the Slytherin thought to himself with a roll of his eyes. He trailed after her before she got too far ahead and that wonderful prickling sensation started up again, and, after a few turns here and there, the pair had reached the section they wanted.

Hermione pulled books off the shelves one after the other, stacking them high in her arms until she could barely stand up straight due to all the weight. Suddenly, her arms were empty. She looked up at Draco in surprise and saw him standing beside her, his own arms laden with old texts. He dully glared back at her, fighting strongly against giving her a heartwarming smile and offering to hold more of her books—this was already pushing his limits too far.

"Trying for chivalry, Malfoy?" Hermione asked him amusedly as she resumed her hunt on the bottom-most shelf.

He sighed. "Actually, I'm trying against it. I _told_ you Granger, this stuff has nothing to do with how I really feel. If this bloody jinx would go away, I'd probably drop all these sodding books on your head."

Hermione gave him a reproachful look and replied, "Well, all these sodding books just might get rid of this bloody jinx. So quit complaining."

After about ten more minutes of piling up Draco's arms with more books, he had had quite enough.

"Bloody hell, Granger, I'm not a bookshelf!" he finally shouted.

Madam Pince swooped her head around the corner and gave Draco a fierce glare, her eyes narrowed dangerously. He gave her an apologetic look that eventually made her return to her desk, and then he returned his attention to Hermione.

Her eyes were darting over the scanty amount of volumes in that section that were left, apparently searching for one in particular. She smiled and slid another book out of the shelf and plopped it on the very top of Draco's pile.

Giving him a playful smirk, she added, "Last one."

"Thank Merlin!" Draco whispered loudly. He followed after Hermione as she once again led them out of the maze of towering shelves and to a deserted table. Draco dropped the heavy texts down with a loud, resounding thud that caused dust from the books to fly into the air.

"Careful! These are old," Hermione chided as she picked through them.

Rolling his eyes again, Draco did the same and blew the remaining dust particles from the cover. And then the search began.

They started in the older books and worked their way to the present, just in case the jinx was formed centuries ago and had fallen into oblivion over the years. That didn't seem to be the case though, and as they worked through book after book, Hermione and Draco's positive outlook on the situation began to dwindle quickly.

"This is pointless, Granger," Draco said, slamming his tenth useless book shut angrily. "We've been at this for hours, dinner ended ages ago, and I'm bloody tired!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you wanted this jinx gone as soon as possible!" Hermione retorted. "Or have you really become quite fond of me now?"

Slate eyes met with chocolate ones for a lingering moment. The emotions were swirling up again inside of both of them, increasing by the second until Draco wasn't sure if he could contain himself.

"This is bad," he said softly but seriously. "We're alone in the back of the library. I can't stop this."

"Malfoy?" Hermione questioned cautiously as she stood up and began backing away from him. He advanced upon her slowly, breathing shallowly, his pupils dilating so quickly that Hermione got dizzy staring at him.

"You have to get us out of here," Draco told her, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted. Hermione knew that it was, though. He had explained what would probably happen if allowed the opportunity, and she could see that the time was now and the place was here. He was going to do something he would regret an awful lot if she didn't stop him that very second. So she did the only thing she could think of. She slapped him. First on one cheek, then the other, and both of them as hard as she could muster. Draco seemed slightly disoriented at the action, so Hermione took advantage of his bewilderment to do what he had asked. Well, almost all of it. She took off like lightning, sprinting past bookshelves and students until she was safely out of the library and halfway to her dorm. She hadn't bothered to take him with her; he would make it back to the same place in the end anyway.

Hermione sank into the plush couch in the common room once she was back in the Head's dorm. Thousands of thoughts were trying to push their way to the front of her mind, but she wouldn't allow it. Her heart was beating wildly against her ribcage, causing an ache to start in her chest. It steadily increased, even though her heartbeat was calming down. She scrunched up her face in response to the pain that was spreading throughout her body now. Millions of tiny needles were prickling along her skin, creeping along like a slow, burning wildfire. Hermione screamed out in agony and hit the carpet, rolling around as if trying to put out the imaginary fire.

"Granger! You idiot!"

Draco came barreling in through the door, stumbling all the while, and finally dropped to the floor beside her.

"What," Hermione gasped, "are…you…yelling…at…me…for?"

"You know we can't be apart!" he yelled back.

Even though the pain was enough to cloud her mind, Hermione knew exactly what Draco was talking about; they had definitely gone more than ten feet from each other. In her haste to get as far away from him as possible, she hadn't even thought about that.

Slowly, the throbbing became less pronounced, until finally, it was gone altogether. The pair lay silent on the floor for a few minutes, trying to catch their breath.

"If you forget about that again, I swear I'll—" Draco started.

"I won't!" Hermione snapped. "It's not as if I enjoy this, Malfoy. And don't forget, _you're_ the one who told me to stop you if you tried anything like that stunt you just pulled!"

"I specifically told you to get US out of there, did I not? But no, you just ran out to save yourself!" he reminded her none too gently.

"Look, it was just an instinct, okay? I knew what you were about to do, so I did the first thing that came to mind. If you had been in my position, I'm sure you would have done the same!"

"Oh contraire, Granger, I don't think you know me very well," Draco disagreed, smirking.

She propped herself up on her elbows to give him a shocked expression. "Oh, so you would have just let me kiss you then?"

"First of all, who ever said that I was going to kiss you in that instance? Second, yes I probably would have. Blimey, Granger, I've been trying to get you to do that since day one. You know how I am, just wanting you to have your dreams come true." A smug smile curled on his lips at how incredulous Hermione looked.

"Yes, well, you, unlike me, are a git," she responded primly. "Therefore, what you think I want and what I _really_ want are two completely different things."

"Oh please, it's rather obvious that you would have gone along with it if I hadn't told you to get out. The only reason you won't let me kiss you is because you're too bloody proud," he said assuredly.

"_I'm_ proud?" Hermione scoffed at the very idea. "Me? Are you joking? You're the one who's arrogant, conceited, insufferable, and not to mention prejudice against anyone different from you! And there's absolutely no way that I could be prevailed upon to kiss the likes of you!"

With that, Hermione stood up, brushed herself off, straightened her disarrayed clothing, and headed to her stairs. Draco was quick to his feet as well, and was after her just as fast.

"Oh come on, Granger, just one little kiss. I know you want to, just admit it!" he tempted her. She stopped at the bottom step and turned to face him, pulling back quickly when she saw how close he was to her already.

"Malfoy, even though my emotions are not my own and they are telling me that I would like to, unfortunately for you I can still think clearly. If you're interested in a snog-fest, go find Parkinson; I'm sure she'd be readily available."

"But…I want to," Draco whined. Hermione could tell these were his emotions speaking—since when did Draco Malfoy whine like a three-year-old? Or beg for her to _kiss_ him?!

"Well too bad! You don't always get what you want, kid," she fired back with irritation.

"Plus, you're kinda creeping me out, Malfoy. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we're going back to the library, ok? This jinx is _going_ to be gone before the end of this week or I'm going to throw myself off a cliff!"

"That's really not a bad idea, Granger," he laughed cruelly. "Would solve a lot of the problems we're having." _There's the real Malfoy_, Hermione noted.

She glowered at him in fury. "I'll get right on that then."

Draco snickered as she went up the stairs and into her room, but soon quieted when Hermione was gone.

_Merlin, she's right! I don't think I can take much more of this confusion—one minute I want to kiss the heck out of her, and the next I want to punch her in her proud little face!_ Draco thought as he proceeded to climb his own set of stairs. _If we don't find a counter-jinx by tomorrow, I'm going to do something I never thought I'd have to resort to. I'm going to Dumbledore. No matter how batty he is, Granger is right about one thing; he can get you out of the worst of situations. _

With that thought to give him a small glimmer of hope, Draco climbed into bed and promptly drifted off to sleep, dreaming about flying textbooks, a looming pair of blood-red lips, and a certain bushy-haired girl that did nothing but smile genuinely at him.


	9. Didn't See That One Coming

In one room over, Hermione was just climbing into bed with much the same sentiments about their situation when, from somewhere under her, she heard a voice calling her name. She paused for a moment to listen and, sure enough, heard a soft but urgent voice shouting for her. Confused, Hermione got out of bed and crouched down to peer into the darkness under it.

"Hermione! Help me!" it called to her once again. She recognized it immediately then, and with a small gasp reached out into the abyss to grope around until her hand found a solid, smooth object. She seized it and pulled it out to reveal Twink, her pages slightly disheveled and her expression irritated.

"Finally! I've been stuck under there all day, you know!" she yelled at Hermione.

Bringing Twink back into bed with her, Hermione sat cross-legged against the headboard. "How in the world did you end up under the bed?" she questioned in concern.

"Well, you threw me aside when Malfoy came in, and then you moved your bed to the other wall—which, by the way, doesn't really work for this room—and I got suck under it! I've been calling your name alllll day; where've you been?" the little book growled.

"I'm sorry, Twink!" Hermione apologized remorsefully. "It's just this stupid jinx, it won't allow me to be more than ten feet from Malfoy, so I haven't had a chance to get you out. And Malfoy and I decided to move our beds to the wall that separates us so there would only be about five feet between us. Luckily, the wall isn't as thick as it looks, so it allows us to sleep in our respective rooms without dealing with that whole excruciating pain thing. But anyway, the rest of the time I've been in the library trying to find the counter-jinx."

"Oh my!" Twink gasped excitedly, causing Hermione to stare at her quizzically. "And it causes intense pain if you're far apart, right? And there's the emotions changing...it all fits!"

"What are you talking about, Twink?" she asked confusedly.

"Well, I had _so_ much time on my hands today, I did a little researching of my own," the book explained happily. "And I'm almost positive that I've found that pesky jinx!"

"You _have_?" Hermione nearly screamed. "Tell me everything! Can we get rid of it? Does it have a counter-jinx? It's not permanent, is it?"

Twink chuckled slightly at her desperation, then quieted when she realized she was serious. "It's called Amore Redimio, meaning—"

"Love Bind!" Hermione cut in.

"Yes, Love Bind. It was created nearly eight hundred years ago by Giacomo and Cassiopeia, an Italian wizard and his young Greek wife. They made it so that their mate could never cheat on them; one, the fake emotions would take over instantly, and two, being apart, or in their case being with someone else, would cause extreme pain. Apparently it worked, too; they were together until they died, which was an unfortunate side effect of the jinx…"

"We're going to DIE?" the distraught Gryffindor yelped.

"No! No, Cassiopeia couldn't take Giacomo anymore, so in spite of the jinx, she found another lover. It caused her so much pain that she eventually died, and, consequently, Giacomo died since he was away from her, too," Twink quickly clarified. She gave a little frown. "Ok, so maybe it didn't work that well…"

"How awful!" Hermione cried. "They obviously didn't think that through very well. Wait…Twink, does that mean that they never created a counter-jinx? I mean, if it existed, they obviously would have used it so they wouldn't die, right?"

Twink sighed. "That's where the problem shows up. You're right, they never did make a counter-jinx. The way I see it, you have two options. Either you live with it until you go crazy or die, or you keep searching. We know that Giacomo and Cassiopeia didn't make a counter-jinx, but someone else might have. This is evidently a rare jinx that hasn't been used in centuries, but whoever did it to you had to have found it again somewhere. I'm betting that wherever that is, a remedy will be found in hiding."

Hermione thought for a moment about this and then spoke. "So, we just have to find the more recent book our attacker found it in?"

"Yes, that's what I'm guessing. But Hermione, we have another problem with that."

"What now?" she groaned.

"The books on the more rare and outdated jinxes are found in the restricted section of the library," Twink replied. "Some of them can be quite Dark."

Hermione shrugged. "Ok, well can't you just find them in your pages? That way we won't have to sneak in or anything."

"I can't," the book shook her head sadly. "Even though I'm magical, I do have certain limits on my abilities. One of them is that I'm not allowed to break into protected documents. I mean, that's like saying I can access Voldemort's private journal whenever I feel the urge! If he did have one, that is, it would most likely be under enormous enchantments. You're going to have to swing this one alone, I'm afraid."

"No, not alone," Hermione said in defeat. "I'll have one arrogant, hormonal Slytherin with me. Joy."

The next morning around six o'clock, Hermione jumped out of bed, threw on her robes, and dashed across the common room to Draco's doorstep. She had spent the majority of the night awake, thinking of what the counter jinx could be and where she could find it, thus she was more than ready to get going on their research. Apparently, her fellow Head did not share the same enthusiasm.

"Malfoy?" Hermione called as she knocked loudly on his door. "Are you awake? We've got to get to the library quickly! Are you even—"

The door opened suddenly and out stepped Draco. "Why, so we can get the table without the wobbly leg?" he said, his voice sleepily sarcastic.

Hermione was thoroughly shocked that he was up and dressed already, and her facial expression clearly showed this. To make it even more evident, she added, "Oh. You're up."

He clapped his hands for her. "Very good, Granger! My, you are very observant this morning, aren't you? Too bad you didn't happen to notice that you're still wearing your slippers," Draco replied in mock congratulations as he eyed her furry shoes. "I wouldn't have taken you for the leopard-print type."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his smug smile and quickly removed her slippers, replacing them with topsiders.

"Satisfied?" she huffed irritably. Draco smirked and pretended to think a moment.

"Well…I'd be more satisfied if you'd give me that kiss I've been asking for," he said cheekily.

"Oh, not again! Honestly, Malfoy, the sun's not even out yet! We've got more important things to think of right now, anyway!" Hermione replied sourly, hands on her hips. Then, just as suddenly as his smile had appeared, it was erased by a deep scowl.

"Well it's not like I meant it, Granger. Merlin, get a grip on yourself; not everyone wants to kiss you, you know. Talk about conceited…" Draco trailed off the last part and turned to exit the dorm through the portrait, completely missing Hermione's open-mouthed, incredulous look. Fortunately, she could now almost always recognize the moments when Draco switched from his flirty, 'jinx' self to his normal, arrogant self. It was quite obvious, really. He would go from being genial and funny to annoying and stupid. Yeah…she could _definitely_ tell when the change happened. In fact, she realized, it had just occurred.

"Are you coming or what?" Draco abruptly intruded in upon her thoughts as he poked his head back in the room. Sighing, Hermione followed after him until they were in the corridor outside of their dorm. She turned right as Draco turned left, causing him to stop and stare at her retreating form. Not wanting another painful episode, he trotted to her side in confusion.

"Just where do you think you're going? The library is the other way, Granger. I thought you of all people would know that," he informed her.

"Yes, I'm quite aware of the library's location, Malfoy," she answered with a yawn. After another minute or so on their seemingly pointless journey in the wrong direction, Draco spoke once more.

"Ok, so why aren't we going there? I thought we needed to do more research or whatever."

"We do, we're just taking a little detour, that's all," Hermione waved him off. She kept right on going, very determinedly, towards the Gryffindor dorms. Now annoyed on top of his confusion, the blond-haired Slytherin grudgingly trailed behind her, sulking all the while.

Finally, once Hermione was sure they were around the corner from the picture of the fat lady, she put out an arm to stop Draco.

"Alright, now I want you to stay here for a moment, can you do that? No moving or looking around, ok?" she sternly instructed him.

Though baffled, Draco wasn't _that_ dumb. He was a Malfoy, after all; any tricks being played were usually up his own sleeve. "What do you think I am, daft? I'm not just going to stand her and wait like your little lapdog. Wherever you're going, I'm sure I can accompany you," he replied defiantly, glaring at her hard with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Most certainly not! You have to stay here, Malfoy, it's very important," Hermione disagreed adamantly. After a moment of hesitation when Draco took the liberty to try and defend himself, she suddenly blurted, "_Silencio_!" He continued to mouth the words he was attempting to speak, but now nothing came out. Before he could get really angry and attack her, though, Hermione whispered, "_Muffliato_," which gave him a buzzing in his ears, along with another incantation that put a veil of blackness over Draco's eyes. Satisfied that he was now blind, mute, and deaf, the Head Girl turned quickly around the corner and dashed into the Gryffindor common room, searching desperately for a certain important friend of hers. Thankfully, he was sitting near the window, for once engulfed in his homework. _Well_, Hermione thought to herself off-handedly, _he's actually probably trying to finish before classes this morning._ She didn't have time to ask him though; a much more pressing matter was at hand.

"Harry!" The raven-haired boy looked up from his parchment with surprised expectancy.

"Hermione! What are you—is everything alright?" his joyous tone was quickly replaced by concern, no doubt based off of the look on her face.

She smiled at him for reassurance. "Oh, yeah! Everything is fine, I just wanted to ask you for a favor."

Harry's own smile returned at once. "Sure, what is it?"

"Well…I know that it's really important to you, but I was wondering if I could borrow your invisibility cloak? Just for today! I promise I'll take the best care of it!" she asked hopefully. Her friend eyed her warily.

"Since when have you been Miss Rule-Breaker? And where exactly do you plan on going with it?" Harry questioned with eyebrows raised.

"I know it's against the rules, but this time it's extremely urgent. I can't tell you exactly why, but I'm taking it to the restricted section in the library." If possible, Harry's eyebrows shot up even higher on his forehead.

"I trust you, Hermione," he finally said. "Whatever it is you need to do in there, you can use my cloak."

"Oh, thank you, Harry!" Hermione squealed happily, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a hug. He returned it along with a light chuckle.

"Go on, it's up in my trunk."

At that moment, a panging began to spread through her limbs, causing them to cry out in agony. And even though she felt like doing the same, she had to keep quiet. After all, it was still early in the morning, and more importantly, she hadn't told anyone about the jinx besides Twink. Now wasn't the time for that, anyway.

"Uh..," Hermione began, clearly uncomfortable with something. "Harry, would you mind getting it for me? I..I just don't feel right going up there with the boys asleep."

Her friend smiled laughingly and stood up with a nod. "Sure, I'll be right back."

Luckily for her, the discomfort had been perceived as a simple issue of ethics. It was times like these Hermione was grateful that she had morals! With that thought of relief quickly leaving her mind, she ran towards the door and pressed herself up against it, trying to get as close to Draco as possible. She felt some of the pain ease away as Harry came down the stairs with his cloak. He gave her a curiously confused look.

"Hermione, what are you doing with the door?"

She whirled around in surprise. "Oh! Er, I was listening. I thought I heard someone knocking or something." To avoid further discussion, Hermione grabbed the cloak, gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek, and bolted out the exit. Upon shutting the portrait behind her, she promptly ran right into Draco, who actually had been pounding repeatedly on the entrance to gain entry. The fat lady was very annoyed with him by now.

"Finally! Miss Granger, I do hope you'll take care of this young lad, he's been banging on my frame relentlessly, and quite frankly, I have had just about enough of this hooligan!" she informed her huffily.

"Don't worry, we were just leaving!" Hermione yelled as she dragged a disgruntled Draco back around the corner and into a side hallway. As soon as they were out of sight of anyone who might have been passing, Draco threw Hermione up against the nearest wall, his face contorted with rage and his wand pressing painfully against her ribs.

Since he was still unable to talk, he just glared at her and mouthed the words, "Take it off!" After a few unsuccessful attempts to get this message across to Hermione, though, he impulsively plunged his hand into her robe and extracted her wand, shoving it forcefully into her face. A still flabbergasted Head Girl shakily took it from him and, as he stepped back a foot or two, she took all three spells off of him.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" Draco shouted angrily, pinning her on the wall once again.

"Shh!" Hermione quieted, glancing at the hall opening nervously. "Look, I'm sorry, but I had to! It would be wrong to reveal the exact location and entry method of where I just was, not to mention against the rules!"

"Well, where were you? And what's that you've got?" he snapped, although a bit quieter now.

"I told you, I can't say where I was," she answered firmly. Lifting the cloak to his line of sight, she continued. "But this...is an Invisibility Cloak."

Draco's mouth fell open in shock and amazement. He reached forward to touch the silky smooth fabric, gaping at it in awe.

"Where in Merlin's name did you get this?"

She shook her head. "Can't say. But we're going to use this to get into the restricted section of the library."

His eyebrows shot up so high they were lost in the lock of hair that tended to hang over his eyes. Then, slowly, a sly smirk curled on his lips.

"Well, well, Granger, one second you're talking about following rules, and the next you're talking about breaking them," he said as the last of his anger faded away. This, of course, was mostly due to the jinx and the sneaky way in which it took over without warning.

She grinned along with him. "You sound impressed."

"I am." He nodded and reached for the cloak again. "This is incredible." Hermione snatched it out of his grasp before he could get a good grip on it.

"I'll just keep this for now, Malfoy," she instructed. "Let's go."

Without any further argument about who got to hold the magical cloak (which surprised both Hermione _and_ Draco), the two Heads were off back in the direction of the library. They arrived there within minutes and sped to the back, winding through shelves and aisles stealthily. Hermione noted with relief that the librarian was asleep at her desk, and snoring loudly at that.

Once at the door to the restricted section, Hermione spread the cloak out in her hands and turned to Draco.

"Well, get under here," she whispered urgently. He gave her a disgusted look.

"Under there? With _you_?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed in annoyance and she grabbed his upper arm, yanking him to her side before he knew what was happening. Then, in one fluid motion, the cloak swung up over their heads and settled around their bodies, hiding them completely from view.

"Blimey, Granger, you could have just said please," Draco chuckled, giving her own arm a small pinch.

"Ow! Stop it, Malfoy, this is no time for shenanigans!" she breathed. Taking out her wand, Hermione pointed it towards the door and opened it by saying, "_Alohomora_!"

It swung forward, seemingly on its own, and they were in. The determined Gryffindor led the way down the hall, fairly certain that a specific section would house the book they needed.

"What exactly are we looking for in here, Granger?" Draco questioned in confusion. Hermione had almost forgotten that he, unlike her, did not have an ongoing relationship with a highly intelligent reference book.

"A book called, 'Snipott's Guide to Forbidden Love'," she replied hastily while taking a sharp turn down another aisle. Although she couldn't see, Draco frowned.

"And why are we looking for this Guide to Forbidden Love?"

"Because," Hermione sighed heavily, "I think it might have the antijinx we need, or at least a way to break this stupid spell."

"And how did you find out about it? I mean, if you figured it out, why didn't you tell me until now, and how in Merlin's name did you find it without me there?"

Now fully agitated, Hermione spun on the spot and stopped to face her particularly inquisitive fellow Head.

"Are you daft or something? Honestly, Malfoy, have you taken one too many stunners to the head?" she shouted in the lowest voice octave possible.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco snarled back.

"It means that we sleep in different rooms, do we not? I looked it up then, for crying out loud! Now can we please stop with the questions? Madam Pince is bound to wake up soon if you don't shut that big mouth of yours!"

"Me?" he defended incredulously. "You're the one flipping your bloody lid about absolutely nothing!"

Hermione stepped closer and looked up into his eyes, anger flaring in her own. Then, through gritted teeth, she replied, "I am only 'flipping my lid' because I'm trying my very best to keep these emotions at bay, and I've found that being angry with you helps to do that. So if you don't mind, I'm going to go find the book we need and hopefully get rid of them so I can just be angry at you for nothing in particular, just like it's always been."

Draco's own fury subsided as he thought this over. He shrugged and nodded approvingly. "I suppose that _is_ true; I do miss our nightly yelling matches and quarrels in the hallways. It's a shame how much valuable time I'm wasting when I could be tormenting you and your ickle friends."

Hermione threw him a hard glare and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Malfoy, let's just find this thing and get out of here, ok?"

Draco said nothing and silently followed Hermione as she led the way down another aisle, scanning shelves so quickly he could not possibly pretend to keep up. Besides, he had already forgotten the name of the book they were supposed to be looking for anyways. Scowling to himself, he grudgingly realized that Hermione seemed to have that affect on him lately—forgetting things that were important. _Yeah, like my stupid father_, Draco grumbled in his head while his Gryffindor roommate took them towards another row of bookshelves. _I must admit though, it's nice to forget about him for a while…I wonder what it would be like to not have to worry about him at all? Blimey, I'd have a rather boring existence! Well, boring…but probably a whole heck of a lot more normal_. He wondered whether or not he would be in this predicament with Hermione as well, but didn't dwell on that thought long, as he knew the answer would be yes. It seemed that trouble surrounded them constantly, as if they universe didn't want them to ever be friends. Draco laughed inwardly at this, for he knew the two of them would never reach that level in their "relationship." Enemies—that was all they would ever be. For some reason, that particular thought did not comfort Draco as much as he thought it would. This troubled him greatly, and soon he completely lost track of why they were in the restricted section of the library altogether.

"Here it is!" Hermione finally whispered in excitement, reaching out a hand to pull a dusty old book off the shelf in front of her. "_Snipott's Guide to Forbidden Love_," she read off the cover. "This is it, Malfoy!"

"Well isn't that just super-duper!" Draco exclaimed sarcastically, wondering why she was standing there staring at it instead of leaving. "Now, tell me, are you planning on soaking up information by looking at it, or are we going to take off?"

Hermione's smile faded immediately. _Why does he insist on making everything miserable for me? _She thought angrily.

"Fine. Let's go."

They left the restricted section quickly and quietly, leaving Madame Pince in the exact same position as before—snoring loudly and slumped over in her chair. Hermione removed Harry's cloak once they were in the hallway and folded it over her arm that carried the book.

The pair strode in silence towards the common room, Draco soon coming to the conclusion that Hermione had no intention of talking to him during this trip. He frowned.

"So…what is this book going to tell us?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Oh! So _now_ your interest is piqued, huh?"

"Well, yes, I want to get this bloody jinx off of us just like you do!" he complained in frustration. "I don't exactly enjoy being the ball to your chain."

"Trust me, I share your sentiments," she growled.

"Well?" he prodded.

"Well what!"

"Are you going to tell me what's in the book or not?"

"Oh, well that would be nice wouldn't it? Except for the small fact that I haven't _read_ it yet, Malfoy!"

"Ok, ok, don't get your knickers in a knot! Merlin's Beard, woman, I was just asking a question," Draco replied indignantly.

Hermione sighed. She was getting quite tired of his antics lately. One second he was hurling insults and dripping sarcasm, and the next he was acting all "I'm attracted to you Granger" and what-not! The confusion was really starting to mess with her head.

They reached the common room soon after, both relieved that there didn't have to be any more weird silences. Hermione seated herself by the fire in a cushy chair and Draco followed suit across from her. She flipped through the many pages until she found the chapter she was looking for, which took forever considering it was in a state of horrid disrepair; each page she turned caused her to cringe, sounding as if it would crumble in her very hands at any moment.

"Here!" she suddenly shouted, a smile lighting up her face. Draco snapped his head up at her exclamation and unintentionally locked eyes with her for a brief moment. His steely grey orbs grew hazy and his heart began to thump madly within his chest, while Hermione's breathing rapidly increased and she curled her hand around the armrest to steady herself.

_Bad idea_, they both thought at the same time. Hermione's senses felt the heavy weight of the book in her lap and it momentarily distracted her, enough so that the trance was broken. Draco shook his head clear of the jinx's effects and sneaked a glance at Hermione through his peripheral vision.

"You ok?" he asked in concern, which was so totally out of character for him that he even wondered why he was saying it as it came out of his mouth. "Uh…I mean, feelin' a bit lightheaded at seeing me, Granger?" He stuck a smirk on his face to attempt covering up his mistake.

Hermione snorted. "You wish, Malfoy! You know it was just the jinx, don't act dumb. Now, where was I…" She turned her attention back to the book and turned a couple more pages, her eyes scanning its contents eagerly.

"Ah, I think I found—," Hermione began hopefully. She was cut off, however, when she looked up to see Draco standing over her, his face much too close to her own. Surprised, her head jerked back against the chair as she tried to get their faces as far away as possible.

"Malfoy, what do you think you're doing, scaring me like that? I nearly had a heart attack!" She said, clutching at her chest to slow her breathing.

When he did not answer but simply continued staring at her, Hermione squinted in suspicion. She studied his endless grey eyes as they bore into her, once again glazed over and full of a hungry lust that was so intense it scared her.

"Malfoy—?"

Before she could get in another word, Draco pounced. He leapt on top of her, knocking her chair over backwards so that he was now pinning her to the ground. Hermione's arm was twisted behind her back in a painfully awkward angle, unfortunately in such a way that she could not get up unless Draco released her. Her eyes bulged in fright and she struggled to get out from underneath him, but it was to no avail. The hungry lust would not cease.

"GET OFF ME!" she screamed, hitting any part of him she could get her free hand on. She tried feeling for her wand in the back pocket of her pants, but couldn't seem to get a good grip on it. "Malfoy, I'm going to hex you into oblivion!"

"Oh, come now, Granger, I know you like this," Draco smirked. Although his normal playful demeanor was there, a part of him was not in his right mind.

_This is bad, this is really bad, really, really bad!_ Hermione cried in her thoughts. _The jinx is getting worse, much worse. I have to find the antijinx soon or we're both going to do something we regret!_

"Just one little kiss, that's all I want!" he told her, animatedly puckering his lips at Hermione.

"Oh, go snog a wall!" she jeered angrily, still wiggling like a flobberworm.

All at once, Draco took her free wrist and pinned it against the floor, using his other hand to force her to look into his eyes. Hermione knew what would happen if she did, but her resistance was no match for her opponent's strength. _Stupid Quidditch!_ She cursed.

Hermione's brown eyes connected with Draco's icy grey ones and that's when she knew it was over. She felt the jinx cloud her mind, her senses, and then everything was covered in a fog. All she saw was Draco. All she wanted was Draco. No one else in the world was there but him, and she _had_ to have him.

"Please, don't," she barely whispered, still aware that her body wanted something her heart did not.

"I can't stop this, Mudblood!" he snarled, just as disgusted as she was. "I can't stop…"

Draco's scent filled her nostrils as he came down to her face, his white blonde hair fell into her eyes as it hung off his forehead, his nose brushed against hers and ignited flickering sparks inside her and then—his lips crashed against hers.

It was rough lips colliding with soft ones, intermingling in a way that felt right, yet they both knew it was so wrong. Hermione grabbed the back of Draco's neck as he loosened his hold on her wrist, putting a fistful of his hair in her hand as she pulled him closer to her. The kiss was anything but romantic, they way he forced his mouth upon hers as if he needed the feel of her lips to breathe, to survive, and the way she pressed her body against his so that there was no space separating them, almost as if it was painful to be apart.

Hermione didn't know how it could ever end—would the jinx keep them going at this forever, or would it wear off? Would they ever get tired? Draco shared the same thoughts with her, but neither of them paused for breath to share them.

He heard her whimper in pain and absentmindedly remembered that her arm was pinned beneath her, so Draco held tightly to her waist as he rolled them over. Now Hermione was the one on top of him, relief flooding through her at the same time the blood was flooding back into her left arm. Draco quickly pulled her back down to his lips, not wanting them to part for even a second. This time it was more relaxed, though; it seemed that the initial drive had worn off a bit, although the _need_ was definitely still present. Draco held Hermione's head in his hands gently as he moved his lips around hers, and she untangled her hand from his hair as she, too, relaxed more.

"Hermione…," he whispered.

Triggered by the sound of _her_ name coming out of Draco Malfoy's mouth, Hermione's eyes flew open. She shot up from him and pushed herself upright, breaking their eye contact. Only something so shocking as that could break their trance, apparently.

Draco once again shook his head, as if shaking off the jinx, and stood up to brush himself off. He righted the toppled chair and placed the library book on the table, not daring to look at his roommate even for one second. He paused with his hands on the top of the chairback, trying to slow his breathing and absorb what he had just done.

"What the HELL was that about, Malfoy?" Hermione yelled suddenly.

Draco stared at her incredulously for a brief second. "It's not as if I could help it, Granger! Don't go blaming this on me, it's just as much your fault as it is mine!" he shouted angrily in the direction of the fireplace, not daring to so much as look at her feet.

"How is it _my_ fault?" she retorted, "You don't see me pouncing on you and knocking over the furniture!"

Draco balled his hands into tight fists, willing himself to not say a word; anything that came out of his mouth would not help their situation in the least. In his fury, he grabbed the library book off the coffee table and flung it against the wall, where it hit with a _thump_ and dropped to the ground by the fire.

"Malfoy! That book is old, you shouldn't have done that!" Hermione cried as she ran to scoop the ancient text off the ground, cradling it like a baby.

"Shut up, Granger! We have more important issues to deal with than that stupid old book! I just _kissed_ you, for Merlin's sake!" Draco raged on, flailing his arms around wildly in exasperation and shaking his head in dismay.

Hermione looked after him in fear as he walked away from her, pacing the length of the room; she had never seen him quite so mad. Although, she had to admit, she was considerably irritated herself.

In spite of everything, she replied with attempted humor, "Well, at least you fulfilled my dreams, right?"

Draco stopped pacing and turned around, a bizarre expression of surprise, annoyance, and perhaps a bit of a smile on his face. He once again shook his head, but this time to hide the smile that spread across his lips. _She asked for it._

He looked up into her eyes, daring himself to keep control of the haywire emotions that threatened to make him explode every time he did. Draco felt the jinx react, pulling him into a fog, but fought it with all his strength, and managed to keep it at bay.

A smirk curled onto his mouth. "I always knew you fancied me, and now dreaming about me too? Why, I'm flattered. So attractive even the Mudbloods love me!"

Hermione's last-ditch effort to lighten the mood with humor worked on Draco, but unfortunately ended up making _her_ angrier. She scowled and tore her eyes away from him, marching resolutely over to the nearest chair with her book. Without uttering a word, Hermione opened it to where they left off and began to read.

Draco's haughty grin slowly disappeared as he realized she was no longer speaking to him, and was then replaced by a scowl of his own. He threw himself into the chair opposite her and waited, mostly because it was all he could do at the moment.

Minutes passed in silence while the Gryffindor studiously researched and the Slytherin watched her, albeit against his better judgment. He noticed that she hadn't turned a page in over five minutes, which led him to believe she had found what they were looking for, considering she was a particularly fast reader. Either she was stalling because it was bad news, or she was just being her usual stubborn self. Draco guessed it was the latter.

"Alright then, Granger, that's enough of the silent treatment. What's in that book of yours?" he piped up then, trying to be a tad nicer.

Hermione glanced up quickly to glare at him for a moment, and then returned to her reading.

Draco groaned in frustration. "Oh, come off it! I know you've found whatever it is you were looking for, so just tell me! Or would you rather not and have me kiss you again? I know how much you _loved_ it last time."

Hermione's head shot up so fast he could hear her neck pop. Knowing he had hit just the right nerve, he wiggled his eyebrows to further bait her.

"I most certainly did _not_ love it, Malfoy!" she retorted finally. "You cannot just assume I like you because of the effects of this jinx, you know! Deep down underneath this façade, I really hate you, and you really hate me too. It's the way things are supposed to be, the natural order of our lives." Her anger had simmered down a little, but was still evident by her tone of loathing.

Draco's joking manner abruptly ceased and a frown creased his forehead. Surely he had heard wrong, but did Granger just say she _hated_ him? Sure, she had said this before, a long time ago, but now? After all that they had been through, he wasn't so sure he truly _hated_ Hermione, it was such a strong word. He almost…had fun taunting her, baiting her reactions, making her bristle at his sensual suggestions. Apparently, she did not share the same feelings. For some strange reason, this hurt Draco, like a small cut that had a dull pain he couldn't fully register in his mind.

Hermione, too, recoiled at her words. Of course she had meant them, she hated him, right? That's how it had always been, as she had said. But as the words had come out of her mouth, she wasn't so sure anymore. They didn't feel real, as if she knew she was telling a lie. A small seed of regret rooted itself in the pit of her stomach as she watched a fraction of hurt pass over Draco's face. But it was gone as soon as it had appeared, and in its stead was a mask of stone. Feeling guilty, Hermione began to read her findings to him.

"Well, this jinx was created about eight hundred years ago by an Italian wizard named Giacomo. He made it so that his wife would never cheat on him, but she ended up doing so anyways and it killed them both."

Draco visibly blanched at the mention of death, so she hurried on.

"Don't worry, it doesn't _cause_ death, that's just what happens if you ignore the pain for too long. That's why it's important that we stay together."

He snorted loudly. "Like we could _ignore_ that pain? It's excruciating!"

Hermione nodded her agreement and sighed. "Well, evidently his wife could have cared less. He must have been one foul git if she wanted to be away from him that badly."

"Yeah, well, she was the idiot, she got them both killed," he added.

"Yes, well, they were both in the wrong, alright? Anyways, the point is, because they died, Giacomo never made an antijinx, excep—"

"Wait a second, so we're _stuck_ like this? Forever?" Draco cried, jumping out of his chair.

Hermione threw him an irritated look. "I was going to tell you, before you _rudely_ interrupted me," she emphasized the word 'rudely' as she opened the book back up to the right chapter, "that there is an exception. Someone else made an antijinx after his mischief caught up with him I suppose. It says here that only he would be able to tell us how to counter the jinx, as he never chose to write it down."

Draco threw up his hands again and yelled, "Oh, great! Now what are we supposed to do? Take a month off of school to track the geezer down? That's likely!"

Hermione grinned, as if she knew something he didn't. Seeing her expression, Draco paused in his rant and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Why are you grinning like that, Granger?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I know who he is."

He rolled his eyes. "Well? Are you going to tell me, or just sit there and look stupid?"

Hermione picked up the book and turned it around so Draco could see the old black and white photo that was squeezed into the bottom left of the page. He squinted at it in the dim light of the fire, not able to pick out any distinguishing features of recognition.

"I can barely see that blasted picture! How in Merlin am I supposed to know who that is?" he said in exasperation, falling back into his chair heavily.

Once again annoyed, Hermione growled, "Well, he's only been your Headmaster for the past seven years, you idiot!"

Draco's mouth opened slightly in shock. "_Dumbledore _made the antijinx?"

Hermione smiled smugly and nodded, pleased she had known something before he did.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not, it says so right here in this book."

"That's unbelievable. What did he need it for?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't say, we'll have to ask while we're up there."

"Oh!" Draco blurted out suddenly, realizing that Dumbledore lived above them a few floors. "We can go see him. We can get the antijinx!" He stood up and rushed over to his roommate, pulling her into an unexpected hug. "We'll be free, Hermione! Free!"

Even though she had no idea what she was doing, Hermione found herself hugging Draco back, just as excited as he. For a moment she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being held by someone who was not a family member—that rarely happened these days, besides Ginny of course, and the occasional hug from either Harry or Ron. She had to admit, it felt nice.

A second later, though, Draco apparently realized what he was doing and abruptly pushed away from her.

"Erm…well, right, anyway, let's uh…I suppose we should go see him then," he mumbled, tripping over his words in embarrassment. If Hermione didn't know any better, she would have sworn that he had a slight red tinge to his cheeks. She grinned a little at this.

"Blushing, Malfoy? I didn't take you as the type to get excited from a little hug," she mocked, feeling immense pleasure as the pink in his cheeks faded to be replaced with his customary scowl.

"Malfoy men do _not_ blush!" he retorted, struggling for the right lie to cover his rosiness. "Now…just…quit making up stories and let's get this antijinx thing over with, Granger. I don't exactly fancy being glued to your side for another twenty-four hours."

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to lead the way out of the common room, muttering under her breath as she went. "Stubborn ferret."

"What did you say?" Draco asked, suddenly right behind her.

She jumped slightly at this, but recovered sweetly with, "Oh, nothing!"

He waited until she was a few paces ahead before mumbling under his own breath.

"Stupid Mudblood."


	10. The Solution

The two Heads reached Dumbledore's office in a few minutes, their trip completed in silence despite what valuable information this next conversation could hold for both of them.

"Lemon Drops," Hermione said excitedly, watching with glee as the gargoyle leapt aside and allowed then entry onto the ascending staircase. She was so ready to see Dumbledore and put this mess behind them, she wished the staircase were moving at warp speed just so she could get there faster. Beside her, Draco stared ahead in silence, not showing an ounce of emotion. She wondered what he was thinking, mainly why he wasn't as excited as he seemed to be back in the common room. Concluding that this might be too personal of a question, and the answer might elicit an angry response, she didn't bother asking.

What Hermione didn't know was that Draco had emotions coursing through him, he was just very good at masking them. He felt oddly sad that they were going to talk to Dumbledore about getting rid of their jinx, almost as if he didn't want it gone. In fact, he was beginning to realize that maybe…maybe he liked having the jinx on them. Even though at times it was frustrating, other times…it was almost as if he and Hermione were…friends? No, it was something more than just friends, but not "love," that would be going too far. It was all very confusing, but it was also the first time he felt anything close to really loving someone, even if it wasn't complete. There was a small part of him that just wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as he could, afraid that if it left…well, maybe it would never come back. Maybe it would all just seem like a dream once the spell was broken, and whatever Hermione and he had would be gone forever.

"Malfoy!" Hermione practically shouted, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

Draco shook out of his reverie and into reality to see them both standing in front of the large wooden door that led into Dumbledore's office. Apparently Hermione had not knocked on the door yet, although Draco had a sneaky suspicion that the headmaster already knew they were there.

"Sorry, what?" he asked in confusion, still a little dazed.

She eyed him curiously and repeated her question. "I said, are you ready for this?"

He stared at her for a second, then took a deep breath and forced himself to roll his eyes and scowl.

"Blimey, Granger, it's a conversation, not an interrogation. Just get on with it!" he said in exasperation.

Her slight smile disappeared as his negative attitude resurfaced. "Fine. Knock away, Malfoy."

"Why do I have to knock? Why can't you?" he replied, indignant.

"Because, you're the one who wants to 'get on with it,' so _you_ can knock on the door!" Hermione answered.

Draco practically growled at her. "Why are we having this idiotic conversation? Just knock on the ruddy do—"

The door swung open just then, interrupting their argument.

"Good morning!" said a cheery Dumbledore. "I took the liberty of opening the door myself, considering the two of you had some difficulty with it, I assume?"

The two Heads stared at him in dumfounded silence until Hermione spoke up.

"Yes, well…good morning, Professor!" she enthused, turning on her bright smile.

"Isn't it?" he replied jovially. Draco stared at him in irritation, wondering how anyone could be so cheery _that_ early in the morning.

"Do come in, won't you?" Dumbledore opened the door even more so they could pass by him easily and make their way to the chairs positioned by his desk. "Take a seat. Biscuit? Pumpkin juice?"

"No, thank you, Professor," Hermione declined him politely. "We're just here to ask you something…something that is very important to us, and I think to you as well."

The headmaster looked at Hermione with interest, and then glanced at Draco, whose face was now filled with nervous anticipation. Dumbledore held his fingertips against one another as he waited for her to continue.

"We were wondering…," she began, getting more anxious by the second. _What if he thinks we're crazy? What if he doesn't want to help us? Maybe he won't even remember what the antijinx is!_

"Go on, Miss Granger. There is nothing to fear," Dumbledore urged her with a reassuring smile. _If only he knew._

"We need your antijinx!" Draco blurted out, clearly too on edge to keep quiet any longer. Hermione shot him a look of annoyance, but he ignored it and focused on the matter at hand.

"Mister Malfoy?" he questioned further.

"The antijinx! You know what I'm talking about, _you're_ the one who made it, the one that gets rid of this ruddy love jinx!"

Ever the picture of a clam façade, Dumbledore remained quiet in thought for a moment before answering. "A love jinx, Mister Malfoy? I'm not sure what you mean."

Hermione piped up then. "It's called Love Bind, Professor. Somehow we've ended up with it being cast upon us and there's no way to get rid of it without an antijinx. It was created over eight hundred years ago, but we found reference of it in a more recent book and…well, it said that _you_ had created an antijinx for it."

The headmaster frowned then, and if Hermione hadn't been staring at him intently for any sign of a light bulb going off in his head, she probably wouldn't have believed it herself—Dumbledore rarely had a frown on his face. This did not seem like a good omen to Hermione.

"Ah, Love Bind."

"Yes, yes, that's the one, now can you give us the antijinx so we can be rid of it forever?" Draco drummed heatedly.

"I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore replied, seemingly upset about it himself.

Draco and Hermione sighed at the same time and exchanged a worried glance.

He then cursed under his breath," Of course it is."

"Professor, are you saying that there _isn't_ an antijinx?" Hermione asked, worry defining every feature of her face.

"Oh no, Miss Granger, there most definitely is an antijinx," Dumbledore replied, to which Hermione visibly relaxed and let out a sigh. "I did create it, as you have discovered yourself. But there were, ah, some complications that I did not account for, you see."

Draco stared at him, still annoyed he wasn't just spitting out the information they needed to know—did he _enjoy_ taunting them like this? "Well? What were they?"

"Well, in my younger days I was in love. I know, it must be hard to imagine with me not being married at my age. Even I myself remember it as a distant dream, and often wonder if it ever happened at all. But, of course, we both know that it did," the Headmaster said, staring off into space.

Draco glanced over at Hermione to see her staring in rapture at her _precious_ Professor. He smirked and laughed under his breath before returning his attention to Dumbledore.

"Anyway, she was a lovely girl, wonderful witch, and most talented in all areas of magic. Out of all the other girls I knew, she impressed me the most. Usually I was the smartest person I knew; not to sound conceited, but that's the interaction I was limited to in those days. I befriended her and soon found myself falling in love. Unfortunately, the affection was not returned to me, and I was devastated. I resorted to searching for love potions and spells, anything that could make her see that I was the one for her. As it were, I came across the Love Bind—drastic, I'll admit now, but then it seemed it was the perfect solution. She would spend so much time with me that, eventually, she would have to love me, or suffer death. I convinced her I was casting a spell to make us more intelligent, but she soon discovered my trick when we could not be more than ten feet apart. She despise me for it—I had taken her freedom from her, her choices, everything. Essentially, I had stolen her life. We stayed like this for months, and meanwhile I kept hoping she would soon realize her hatred of me was misplaced love. It never came about though, and soon it was more than she could bear. She talked of killing herself just so she could be put out of the misery that was her life now, the life that I had caused. Fake emotions, however close to love they are, are still not real, true love. They never feel the same. It was then that I realized I loved her too much to force this upon her—I had to create an antijinx since none yet existed. Impossible it may seem to the both of you, but I had done this before. I was young, but I was mature beyond my years when it came to advanced magic. After a few weeks of meddling about in different spells, I thought I had finally conjured up a solution. The only problem was that I had no test subjects to try it out on, only ourselves. If something went wrong, there was no turning back. I told her what I had created and she was more than ready to test it, consequences or not."

At this point Dumbledore stopped talking and was quiet for a moment, seemingly to collect his thoughts. He lightly held his face in his hands, almost as if he were holding back tears. Hermione looked on him with concern. "Professor, are you alright?"

He looked up at her with a smile. "Yes, yes, Miss Granger. Sorry for the interruption. Allow me to finish my story." With a deep sign he continued on.

"Well, I performed the spell to reverse the jinx, all in the exact same manner that I had done when putting the jinx on us for the first time, and everything seemed to go just fine. It was only after I was done that I realized something was wrong. Despite her hatred of me, she ran to me for an embrace due to her happiness that the jinx was gone. The hug I expected never came, though, because she was thrown backwards across the room as soon as she got an inch away from me. I tried to help her up but an unseen barrier existed between us. You see, by breaking the bind that connected me to my only love, I was unable to touch her ever again. And due to that, I am also unable to love ever again in that way. That is the reason I have never married. The only love I am able to feel now is that of family and friends. The other complication we did not discover until that evening, when she attempted to do a simple cleaning spell in her home. She was very surprised when nothing happened. She tried again, and again nothing occurred. No pots were scrubbed, no floor was swept. Her magic was gone; in essence, she was now a Squib. I still don't know why that happened, but you can imagine how devastated she was."

Hermione and Draco stared at him, their mouths hanging open. Draco's eyes were the size of dinner plates, while Hermione looked as if she were about to pass out.

"So…so you're saying that if we try to use this antijinx, I'll turn into a Squib and Malfoy will never be able to love?" Hermione questioned in disbelief.

Dumbledore sighed once again. "Perhaps. One could never know unless it was attempted. I have only ever tried it once, obviously. The results could be totally different in your situation, considering neither of you love one another in that way. It is a risk, to be sure, but the choice is up to you."

Draco gritted his teeth together. "That's it? That's all you're going to give us? No special fix to our problem? Granger always said you could do anything, remedy any situation! But I knew better, I knew you were a joke, you could never help us at all!" he shouted, standing up from his chair and heading to the door.

"Mister Malfoy."

Draco whirled around to face the aging man. "What!"

"If you would sit down, we could discuss this rationally and explore the options. I am flattered Miss Granger would praise me in such a way," he quickly smiled at Hermione appreciatively, "but regrettably I cannot always fix everything. I will, however, do the best that I can, seeing that I can empathize with your situation quite well."

He glared at him for a moment longer and then gave up, stomping back to the chair he was just sitting in, and plopping down heavily.

"Not to be rude, Professor, but what options do we really have?" Hermione pointed out glumly.

"Well, there is one thing you could do. It would be risky, and not to mention dangerous, but it could possibly allow you a way out," he said mysteriously, looking rather hopeful.

Draco's eyes lit up. "What do we have to do?"

Dumbledore opened up one of his drawers and carefully pulled out a small, silver hourglass hanging on a golden chain.

Hermione smiled, understanding dawning on her. "That's brilliant, Professor!"

Draco looked at her in confusion, and then back at the Headmaster. "What's brilliant? What is that thing? How is _that_ supposed to help us be free?"

"It's a Time-Turner, Malfoy," Hermione explained excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore is suggesting we go back in time to find the creators of the jinx and find out how to get rid of it! But Professor—," she paused in thought, "how are we supposed to go back that far? One inversion goes back only an hour, we'd have to turn it a million times!"

Dumbledore smiled, as if he'd already thought about that. "Ah, well Miss Granger that is a special Time-Turner I had made especially for myself. It can go back as many years as you want, all you must do is point your wand at it, say the date, and you will be there in no time at all."

Draco still wasn't convinced, and his eyes narrowed at Dumbledore. "Wait a minute, how come you never went back in time in the first place? Then you would be able to love and that girl wouldn't be a Squib."

"Time-Turners hadn't been invented then, Mister Malfoy. Trust me, I would have taken that chance had it been an option."

There was a moment of silence while Hermione looked expectantly at Draco, Draco sat in thought, and the Headmaster glanced back and fourth between the two of them. The blonde-haired Slytherin finally looked up at them, his face resolute.

"Alright, let's do it."

Back in the Head's common room, Hermione and Draco stood facing one another by the fireplace. In the Gryffindor's hand was the Time-Turner, and in the Slytherin's hand was floo powder. Dumbledore had explained to them that his special timepiece could only be used outside the grounds of Hogwarts; therefore they would have to floo to Hogsmeade and then journey from there. He had given them the day off from school to complete this adventure, warning them to keep their wands at the ready and their minds alert—who knew what dangers would be held in the land they were about to travel to?

"Ready?" Hermione asked, staring Draco in the eyes.

He looked back with just as much intensity. "Ready."

They climbed side-by-side into the large fireplace, and with one sweeping motion, Draco threw down the floor powder and said in a clear voice, "Hogsmeade!"

Both Heads stumbled out of the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks and quickly exited out onto the street. Hermione wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck; the wind was whipping quickly and snow was falling around them.

"Let's…let's go to the outskirts of town, I don't really want anyone seeing us do this," Draco suggested, already starting to walk towards the Hog's Head.

"Why not?" Hermione questioned as she followed.

"I duno, it just seems like it's something that should be done in private, that's all."

She scoffed under her breath. "Oh please, it's quite clear that you don't want to be seen with me, Malfoy. You can admit it, you know."

"It has nothing to do with that, Granger!" he retorted, clearly upset by the idea. "Blood purity isn't the _only_ thing I think about, ok? I do have my own thoughts and opinions! I'm _not_ my father."

Taken aback by his statements, Hermione fell silent as they continued to walk on. After a little while she quietly said, "For what it's worth, you are nothing like your father."

She glanced sidelong at Draco to see if this had any impact on him, and she was not disappointed. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, question and confusion spelt across his face. Their walk slowed down considerably as he took his time to respond.

"How would you know, Granger? You don't know me and you don't know my father," he replied coldly, staring ahead once again.

"Malfoy, you saved my life. I'll never forget that. Your father never even considered it as an option. You're more different than you think."

Draco looked at her, really looked at her then. She was being genuine, he could tell. He would never admit it to her, or to anyone for that matter, but her words warmed him inside. _I'm not like my father. She said I was different. No one has ever said that to me before._ He didn't know how to reply to that, so he muttered out a, "Thanks," and said no more.

Before Hermione could think of something else to say, they had reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Here, the wind blew more fiercely than in the town for there was no protection from buildings, so the pair huddled together as best they could without actually touching one another.

"Alright, turn the blasted thing already, it's freezing!" Draco exclaimed, rubbing his hands rapidly up and down his arms.

"Ok, ok, hold onto me then!" she replied, pointing her wand at the Time-Turner. Once Draco was secured to her arm, Hermione turned it once and shouted, "Greece, 1210!"


	11. Greece Expectations

Immediately the world around them began to swirl and change, all the colors mixing together so quickly that neither of them could make out the images that were flashing by. A second later the two Heads stood on a dirt pathway that led up the side of a hill and disappeared around the other side. To their right was the gorgeous aqua colored sea, moving about with the slight breeze that blew from the West.

"Wow, this is amazing!" Hermione declared, walking to the edge of the path so as to view the sea better. "That water is the bluest I've ever seen!"

Even Draco, impressed by few things, was at a loss for words upon seeing the beauty before him; he had never been to Greece, after all, even though he had some distant relatives that lived there. After a moment of staring out at the scenery, his mind recalled their mission.

"Alright, Granger, we've got to find these jinx people before I go stir crazy by your side," Draco announced dryly, clearly ready to get this whole ordeal over with.

He glanced up at the sun, squinting under its bright, hot rays, and quickly took off his heavy coat and gloves. There was a drastic change in temperature this time of year in Greece, especially by the seaside, and it was probably about 85 degrees.

Hermione soon followed suit, shooting him a hefty glare in the process, annoyed he had broken in upon her reverie. "Ok, ok, keep your wands in a row, I was just getting my bearings is all." With a sigh she began to walk up the path, Draco close on her heels.

"How do you know where you're going, Granger?"

"I don't, really, I'm just following instinct."

"I'm sorry, what? You're just going to _follow your instinct_ and see where it leads us? Why, it could take years to find these nut jobs if we do it that way!" he exclaimed angrily. "No, we need to find a map and locate them."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips. "Malfoy, do you think if I had a map I wouldn't be using it? We have to follow this path to see where it leads—which could be to a town, which could have people that know where Giacomo and Cassiopeia are, or quite possibly a map!"

"Oh," was all he could muster in response, knowing that he had just sounded like a complete idiot. _Why didn't I think of that? This ruddy jinx is making me daft!_

Hermione was about to turn back around to continue her trek up the path, but just then a sea breeze blew from behind Draco, taking his unique scent and sending it straight up her nose. She froze in her tracks, eyes wide, hands trembling. She realized instantly that the jinx had never made her react in this way before—this was much more intense. Draco stared at her curiously, not comprehending what was going through her mind.

"Granger…are you quite alright? It looks like you've seen a ghost," he commented, his brow furrowed.

The breeze still blowing slightly, Hermione closed her eyes and breathed him in—cologne that smelled half sweet and half bitter (if that was possible), freshly laundered robes, and hair gel. She licked her lips, taking one in her teeth and biting down hard. She knew it had to stop _now_, or else she honestly didn't know what she would do. Probably throw herself on him, or something similarly horrifying.

"Granger!"

Draco was there then, shaking her brusquely by the arms.

Hermione's eyes flew open, taking in the Slytherin that was inches from her. _Thanks a lot, Malfoy. That helps a bunch, _the rational side of her brain thought sourly of his proximity to her.

As she thought this, the breeze suddenly switched directions. She no longer smelled Draco, but it was just the opposite for him. The sweet scent of Hermione was like a slap in his face, as if he'd been dreaming and was just woken up. Lilacs, strawberries, and some clean scent he couldn't place. To the part of him that was driven entirely by the jinx, it was intoxicating. Oh, who was he kidding? Even the other half of him agreed. Hermione noted the change in his eyes and tried to pull away, knowing that the absence of the breeze was her only way out now.

"Wait, don't," he said softly, although still firmly holding onto her arms.

"Malfoy, we can't—"

"Why not?" His eyes bored into hers, so intensely it almost made her melt.

"Because we're not thinking clearly, it's just the jinx, remember?" Hermione sighed, looking away towards the now abandoned path. "We have to keep moving."

"Is it?"

She snapped her head back, her eyes meeting his once again. "Is it, what?"

"Is it still the jinx causing these emotions? Or is it you and me?"

Hermione's resolve faltered at this, unsure of what to say. Was it still the jinx that was making them feel this way? Or had…other feelings developed? She _had_ registered in her mind that the feelings were stronger than before…but, what if that was just her _own_ feelings getting stronger? Dumbledore had never mentioned anything about that—a growth to the jinx. If that was the case, the Headmaster's true love would have ended up falling for him, just like he wanted. And Cassiopeia wouldn't have cheated on her husband, because she would have ended up _more_ in love with him than in the beginning. Merlin, was she _falling_ for Draco Malfoy? Was such a thing possible? Hermione needed to find out as much as she could about this jinx, and she needed it now.

In one swift movement, she brought her hand up and slapped Draco flush across his cheek.

"Oi! What the—what was _that_ for?" he exclaimed crossly, gingerly cradling his angry red cheek.

Hermione looked apologetic. "Look, I'm sorry I did that, but I had to. You weren't thinking straight and it was the only way to snap you out of it."

Draco snorted. "Right! I could think of a lot better ways, Granger! Like shaking me, or yelling, or—or _anything_ other than that!"

"Ok, ok, I said I was sorry! I could have kicked you in a rather unpleasant place, would that have been better?" Seeing Draco widen his eyes was answer enough. "Yeah, you're welcome. Now let's get on with this already, shall we? I'd like to find these people before they die, you know."

Rolling his eyes, Draco followed her, all the while muttering under his breath something about how his perfect complexion was ruined forever.

After quite some time, the pair finally spotted a city not far off on the other side of a hill.

"Check it out! I wonder if this is where they live," Hermione questioned out loud, speeding her pace up.

"It better be, this bloody hike is killing my feet," Draco complained for the thousandth time that hour. "I don't know how these people did this, it's ridiculous!"

"Oh, buck up, Malfoy, we're almost there. Here, this should help in the mean time," the Head Girl replied, taking out her wand and casting a comfort spell on his feet. Draco's expression relaxed as his feet regained feeling and suddenly felt as though they were walking on clouds.

"Thanks, Granger."

Hermione turned to look at him and smiled, seeing that he was being genuine for once. "You're welcome, Malfoy."

Inwardly, Draco scowled at himself for not knowing that spell himself. _What is it with her getting the best of me these days? It's like this jinx is sucking the smart right out of me! These Greek characters better have an answer, or they're going to die sooner than they thought!_

They rounded the hill quickly and came upon the entrance to the city, where the name "Thermi" was mounted on a wooden board that was nailed to the gate. Next to it was a single guard, who was currently slumped over in his chair fast asleep.

Draco snorted. "Some security system they got here."

Peering around him and the gate, Hermione noted that the town wasn't very busy, with only a few groups of people moving throughout the square.

"I don't think there's really that much to protect," she offered.

The two of them snuck quickly past the guard and started off down the main street, walking by small booths filled with local art, food, and furniture.

"So now what? We just ask around for these people?" Draco questioned, glancing warily around at the vendors that kept calling out for him to buy their products. "They don't exactly look that knowledgeable."

Hermione shrugged. "What other choice do we have?"

She soon spotted a man who was sitting cross-legged on a blanket, and had incense spiraling upward around him like a slow-motion whirlwind. His forefingers were pressed against him thumbs, and he was chanting in a low voice while his eyes remained closed. _He seems like the town's medicine man, or something similar. I bet he'd be the one to know where they are._

"Excuse me, sir?" she said nervously, not wanting to interrupt anything. At first, there was no response, so Hermione cleared her throat. "Um—"

"Hello!" the man nearly yelled at them, his eyes flying open to reveal piercingly blue orbs. "Hello there, hello there, who are you? What do you want, eh?"

Hermione exchanged a quick glance of uncertainty with Draco and then returned her attention to the medicine man.

"Yes, hi, um, we were wondering if you might know where two of our friends were. Their names are Giacomo and Cassiopeia. Do they live around here?"

The man's blue eyes widened until Draco thought they might just pop right out of his head. "Ohhhh! Oh! Giacomo and Cassiopeia! Oh…poor souls. Doomed. Doomed to die…so sad, very sad…"

Once again, Hermione looked to Draco, this time in alarm. They were both thinking the same thing—were they already dead? Draco decided it was time to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

"Listen, buddy, do they live here or not? We really need to find them, and the sooner the better. It's an emergency," he said authoritatively.

The man looked directly at him and narrowed his eyes, as if he were trying to see into Draco's soul. The Slytherin took a step back involuntarily, clearly unsettled by this mysterious towns person. Finally, the man answered him.

"Yes. The two young souls that you seek live here. Follow this road until it ends and you will find their house. It is perched on the rocky cliffs and surrounded by sky."

The two Heads lit up in excitement. "Excellent!" they both exclaimed.

"But!" the man shouted harshly, making them both jump. "I must warn you, terrible things have happened there. Terrible things are about to happen there. If you value your lives, stay away."

Hermione looked positively alarmed at this, and came closer to the man to hear what he had to say

. "What kind of terrible things?" she questioned fearfully. Draco watched them suspiciously from a few paces behind.

The medicine man leaned forward so he was almost nose to nose with Hermione, and then whispered, "Ask your friend."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and stood back up, clearly confused, and glanced between him and Draco. At that same moment, Draco grabbed her upper arm and yanked her in the other direction.

"Come on, this guy is a lunatic, let's go," he commanded under his breath, forcefully leading her away from the old man.

"Ow! Malfoy, you're hurting my arm!" she complained as they struggled up another hill. He immediately released her and kept on going, trudging along in determination. Hermione sped up to him, and then had to fast walk to keep with his pace.

"What was that man talking about, Malfoy? Why did he tell me to ask you about the terrible things that happened in their house?" she asked skeptically. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Draco remained silent, focused on getting up the steep hill and to their Greek friend's house. She stared after him incredulously.

"Malfoy! I am talking to you, you git! What is wrong with you!"

"Look, I don't know, ok! I have no idea why he thinks I would know anything about it, I obviously wasn't alive when these people existed!" he shouted back in annoyance.

"He thinks you know something! Why would this random medicine man from hundreds of years ago think that you, of all people, know about the exact same couple we came searching for, huh?" Hermione said back. "You're hiding something from me!"

"NO I'M NOT!" Draco bellowed, now stopped in the middle of the road and facing Hermione. "I don't know what he's talking about, Granger, you're just going to have to trust me!"

Hermione glared at him hard, her chest rising and falling quickly in rhythm with her increased heartbeat, her hands balled into fists.

"Why should I trust you?" she snapped.

Draco stared back at her just as furiously, but answered in a softer voice, "Because I'm all you've got."

Hermione peered at him, almost as if she were probing his mind to see if he was telling the truth. After a lengthy silence in which she stared at him and he waited to see her reaction, she finally conceded with a sigh. "Oh, alright. Let's go then."

It wasn't long before the house on the bluff was visible from their position on the hills. Unfortunately, their path had suddenly become rather steep and narrow, clutching the hillside so tightly Hermione had slowed down considerably behind Draco so that she could watch her footsteps with caution. Her companion, however, seemingly had no trouble at all with the perilous road, and kept his pace as if he was on any other trail and not inches from an untimely death.

"What are you doing back there, taking a nap?" Draco asked in frustration after he had turned back to see that Hermione was nowhere in sight. He believed her to be just around the corner he had just rounded, but after waiting a few seconds actually became worried she had fallen off the cliff. "Granger? Granger, where are you?" Silence answered his beckoning. Draco began to panic. _Granger's gone! If she's dead, that means _I'm_ dead! We can't be far apart, and if she's gone and thrown herself off that bloody cliff…I might as well follow her down!_

He sprinted back around the corner as quick as his feet would carry him, only to be stopped by the girl in question as they rammed right into one another.

"Oi! What the—," he yelled. At the same time, Draco's foot slipped, causing pebbles and dirt to slide off the edge and down to the churning sea below, his leg soon following. He grabbed onto Hermione's sleeve as she reached for his hand and waist. After a moment of immobility, she hoisted him as best she could back to a standing position on the narrow path, brushing herself off and breathing hard.

"Thanks for trying to bulldoze me down, Malfoy!" Hermione cried, clearly shaken by the experience. "You're lucky I didn't die just then!"

"YOU? I'm the one who almost fell off the cliff, if you hadn't noticed!" Draco retorted, gesturing wildly towards the sky blue ocean below them.

"Yeah, and you're still alive no thanks to me of course, I only saved your life is all!" she reminded him.

Her exclamation hung in the air like a taboo as Draco struggled to think of a smart comeback that would slyly thank her at the same time. He could think of none, so just shouted, "Well thanks for nothing! I'd rather die than be stuck with you!"

Hermione's mouth opened in an inaudible gasp, stung by his words. She quickly recovered so he wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes by shutting her mouth and marching back up the incline towards the seaside house.

Draco cursed inwardly as he started to follow her. He had meant to thank her, and honestly was forever in her debt for what she had done, but as he felt the words coming out of his mouth he just couldn't say it. His Malfoy instincts took over and he said the nastiest thing he could think of instead. _Stupid genes_, he muttered in his head. _I shouldn't be so mean to her, Granger is kind of an okay girl, I mean she's pretty and nice and isn't a bad kisser—_Draco physically shook himself, surprised at where his own thoughts were taking him. _It's just the jinx, Draco, it's not real. Soon it will all be over and you won't have to feel these weird emotions anymore, and you can hate each other until you die._ He smiled to himself at this thought. _That's better. Happy thoughts, Draco, happy thoughts!_

By the time this internal banter had finished, the pair was in the front yard of the old home. It appeared at first glance that no one had inhabited this house in a long time. The yard was overgrown and full of brambles, the once pristine white and blue paint on the exterior was peeling and chipped, shingles were missing from the roof, and most of the shutters lay scattered across the lawn, save for one that was hanging on by its last hinge from the looks of things.

Draco looked over at Hermione, and seeing the worried and disappointed look on her face, felt oddly compelled to comfort her and fix the situation.

"Look, Granger, maybe the place got robbed or something, they're probably just too poor to fix it up. We should at least check inside," he said, watching for her reaction.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right, let's knock and see if anyone's home." With that she strode to the front door, giving it two hard raps. Draco appeared next to her while they waited. A minute passed with no answer at the door, and Hermione's shoulders slumped, clearly disappointed they had come all this way for nothing.

"They aren't here, Malfoy. This is pointless, we should just go," she said dejectedly as she turned to leave.

Draco grit his teeth in anger. Being stuck to Hermione, going back in time, and almost falling off a cliff had given him determination it seemed, and there was no way he was giving up that fast. They had to be there somewhere, and by Merlin he was going to find them if it was the last thing he did!

"No!" he suddenly yelled as he began pounding furiously on the old wooden door. "They must be here! Hello! Anyone in there? Giacomo? HELLO! We need your help with your—er, a jinx! Please!"

Hermione watched his futile attempt, feeling utterly hopeless about their situation. It appeared they would just be stuck with each other for the rest of their lives, and there was absolutely nothing that could be done about it. Thinking this, the once brave and fearless Gryffindor suddenly felt, for the first time, that she had been sorted into the wrong house. _I'm no courageous warrior_, she thought sullenly as Draco continued his assault on the door. _I can't even figure out how to get rid of a silly little jinx, and I have no idea what to do…I always know what to do! What's happening to me?_

Interrupting her thoughts was the cessation of Draco's pounding and his surprised gasp. Hermione whipped her head up, hopeful.

"What is it? Do you see them?"

Draco's face was immobile, but she could see the gears turning in his head at top speed. He looked shocked, then confused, and finally angry, pure and raw. He punched the door hard and cursed loudly, and then began pacing back and fourth.

"Malfoy?" Hermione cautiously said. Giving no sign that he heard her or was going to react violently against her, she then asked, "What's going on? What did you see?"

He pointed at the door, such hatred in his expression that Hermione was glad he wasn't speaking at the moment. She walked over and finally saw what she didn't notice before—a small crest in the center of the door, normally where a peep hole would be placed. It resembled a shield that had two black dragons on either side and bore the colors of Slytherin, green and silver, all throughout. A large silver "M" was set in the middle, and under it were the words "_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper."_

Hermione didn't have to think twice about what this was, especially due to the way Draco had reacted upon seeing it, and the fact that the Latin words translated to "Purity Always Conquers". She was afraid to ask him about it, but she thought back on what the medicine man had said and knew this was somehow connected and important.

"Your family crest is on their door." It was clearly a statement, for there was really no need to ask him why it was there—it was obvious that he had no more idea than Hermione did.

He finally turned to look at her, still seething, and simply said, "Yes, Granger."

She couldn't contain the question any longer. "But why—?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he exclaimed, cutting her off. "This is all my father's doing! It all makes sense now—this jinx has apparently been in my family for generations, centuries, maybe since the beginning of time! It's the reason there is no anti-jinx listed in any book we've looked at, of course the Malfoys would want to keep that secret to themselves if they created the ruddy thing. Typical!"

Hermione stared at him blankly, still confused. "But why would your father want us to fall in fake love and be stuck together forever? He hates me!"

"Well of course he hates you, you idiot! You're a Mudblood! But he also loves himself more than anyone or anything, and to protect himself he wants you to keep your pretty little mouth shut about what happened this summer, and that means making sure we're as close to friends as we can get," he explained animatedly.

He watched her expression and could see that things were finally clicking into place in that smart brain of hers. Hermione's eyes were wide with…did he see a little fear in them? _Some Gryffindork you are_.

"Why not just threaten me then? Why take the long way around?" A touch of prideful anger had crept into her features as she said this.

Draco sighed, as if explaining this was taking a toll on him physically. "Haven't you ever heard the expression, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'? I suppose he thought it easier to keep an eye on you if you were by my side 24-7, although I'm sure it never crossed his mind how horrible that would be for me."

"For _us_," she corrected with a growl.

Draco was just about to retort with a witty comment about how life with a Mudblood was terribly detrimental to his health, when a man with a short, white blonde beard and head of hair to match came tottering from around the corner holding a hastily-made bouquet of wildflowers. Upon seeing the pair of teenagers, he stopped short in surprise and began speaking to them in Italian.

"Oh, bloody hell, now what? I can't speak Italian!" Draco complained, staring at the man as if he was an alien from another planet.

"For goodness sakes, it wouldn't hurt you to pay attention in class, Malfoy!" Hermione chided. She took out her wand discreetly (in case this man was a Muggle) behind her back and cast a spell under her breath. Instantaneously, the Italian the man was speaking had turned into English.

"…help you?" he said, looking very confused.

Hermione stepped forward tentatively. "Hello, I'm Hermione and this is Draco." She gestured to each of them respectively, and then continued. "We were wondering…you wouldn't, by any chance, be Giacomo, would you?"

Uncertainly, he responded, "Yes, I am Giacomo. What can I help you with?"

Hermione's smile was so big, Draco was afraid she was going to jump for joy and embrace the man, but luckily she contained herself.

"Oh, wonderful! That's wonderful!" she exclaimed instead, looking back and fourth between Draco and Giacomo to see their reactions. "Isn't that wonderful, Draco?"

He shot her a look that clearly said _calm down_, and then began to speak for the both of them. Hermione's excitement did not diminish even the slightest from his glare.

"Giacomo, we have come to you in need of your assistance. Have you ever heard of Amore Redimio?"

Draco watched his face carefully to see his reaction, which was instantaneous; recognition crossed it, accompanied by shock and fear.

"No! No I've never heard of that, I'm sorry. I don't think I can help you," he said hurriedly as he began towards the house.

"Please!" Hermione cried, stopping him short. He turned to look at her pleading face, evidently torn between leaving and helping.

"Please," she repeated, "You're our only hope."

Giacomo stared at them in silence, thinking. Finally, he broke down and nodded furiously, glancing from side to side nervously as he ushered them into the old house.

Hermione and Draco were pushed inside, yet immediately disoriented. Were they in the same house? The interior was immaculate, from the dark green drapes on every window to the silver-flecked paint that covered the walls, from the exquisite furniture in every room to the house elves that were scurrying around due to the arrival of their master. The two Heads exchange a look of disbelief and then turned their attention to Giacomo, who had seated himself in a plush armchair.

Noticing their incredulous looks, he filled them in with a sly grin. "Ah, I find keeping disillusionment charms on my house keeps out…well, those who are unwanted."

"So you're a wizard, then?" Hermione noted out loud.

"I'm not just a _wizard_, little girl, I'm a Malfoy!" he answered her snidely, pride filling his voice. She frowned at him and internally rolled her eyes, while Draco smiled from ear to ear.

"So am I!" the Slytherin blonde announced.

Giacomo looked at him in surprise, studying his features very carefully. He stroked his chin in thought, then spoke.

"That is impossible. I have no relatives alive and my children have none of their own as of yet. You are lying," he stated simply.

Draco's smile instantly disappeared. "No, I swear I am! My father is Lucius Malfoy, I—I'm a Malfoy, I am! Granger, tell him!"

Surprised that she was called upon, Hermione looked up, unsure of what to say. "Uh, yeah, he truly is, sir. I can vouch for him being a spineless, hateful prick a hundred times over," she answered as honestly as she could, smiling a bit in Draco's direction. He gave her a scowl in return.

Giacomo's voice interrupted their exchange. "Is this true, boy?"

"Well, yeah, but she is an insufferable know-it-all!" he retorted, glaring hard at Hermione.

"Oh, and you're so much better?" she yelled back. "You got drunk at 11 in the morning, and then proceeded to hex my best friend just to annoy me!"

"He deserved it; he's a redheaded weasel who's friends with _Mudbloods_!"

"Enough!" Giacomo interrupted loudly, cutting their argument off. He surveyed Draco for a moment and then smiled. "I believe you are a Malfoy. How you got here I will not question, but I haven't heard _that_ word in these parts since my own father died. Wizards in these parts do not believe that Purebloods should be the only ones with magical abilities." He paused to give Hermione a disapproving look that she inferred to be related to her blood status Draco had just blurted out. _Great, now he won't help us at all! Good going, Malfoy!_ She thought irritably, shooting him daggers that he chose to ignore.

"Now, you asked about Amore Redimio?" Giacomo said, now talking only to Draco and completely ignoring Hermione.

"Yes, you see we have—er—seemed to have gotten this jinx cast upon us unknowingly sometime in the past week, and well, we heard that you were the one who created it, so I thought maybe you could help us find a way to get rid of it," Draco explained earnestly.

"How did this come to be when I myself have yet to cast it? I only perfected my jinx just recently, and I haven't tried it out yet," Giacomo answered in confusion.

"But that's great!" Hermione squealed in excitement. When the two Malfoys gave her looks of perplexity, she continued. "Don't you see, Malfoy? If he never casts the jinx, that means your father won't ever have a chance of doing this to us—it won't exist at all!"

"Stupid girl!" Giacomo shouted, suddenly very angry. "Do not assume I will cease my experiment just because you two random strangers appeared at my doorstep today! I have every intention of casting the jinx upon my lover; this very evening, in fact."

Hermione looked crestfallen and more than a little afraid at this sudden outburst. She glanced up at Draco, pleading him to help with her eyes. He gave a small sigh and turned to the disgruntled man.

"Giacomo, please see reason," he began seriously. "You, being a Malfoy, have a way with the ladies, am I right?"

The stormy expression on the Italian wizard's face softened a bit as a sly grin crept onto his visage, and he gave a little shrug as if it were no big deal. "Well, I have been known to woo beautiful women on occasion, it's true."

Draco smirked back, knowing he was going about this the right way. "Then it's only natural to assume you have absolutely no need of this jinx. I would think with your good looks and wealth you'd be able to have any woman in this entire country!"

"While you flatter me with the truth, dear boy, there is one exception—_Cassiopeia_!" he snarled her name out with such hatred, the pair of Heads were confused as to why he wanted her at all. Noticing their blank expressions, he explained.

"She is the only woman who has refused me, never even noticed me or looked twice in my direction. When I finally got her attention after months of trying, she dismissed me as if I were worth no more than the dirt on her shoes. I have tried everything! Flowers, chocolates, declarations of love under her window…nothing. Nothing works!" he shouted, clearly upset and defeated. Giacomo hung his head in despair, then ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He looked up at Draco and Hermione with pity in his eyes.

"I am sorry, but I must cast this jinx upon her. It is the only way I can be with the one I love."

"Please!" Hermione blurted out in frustration, causing Giacomo to look at her in even more contempt than before. She swore he even turned up his nose a little. "Please, Giacomo, it's not a good idea, trust me. I know this might be hard to believe, but we're from the future, and we know someone who used this jinx to do what you're about to do, and it destroyed him. And according to the history books, it's going to destroy you _and_ Cassiopeia. It's going to kill you."

It was clear by the lack of change in his expression that Giacomo wasn't going to believe anything a mere Mudblood told him, so he turned to Draco, his eyebrows high upon his forehead. Draco nodded grimly in response to his questioning look.

"It's true, sir. It's going to kill both of you. She can't stand being trapped and leaves despite the pain. If you really love her, you have to let her go."

The man stared at him in silence for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple of seconds, and then his lip began to quiver, and soon he was sobbing like a school girl, slumped over on his armchair.

"I—I—I c-can't! I c-c-can't l-lose her-r! You d-don't und-derstand-d!" he blubbered uncontrollably. Draco and Hermione shared a look of shock and took a step back to let the man wail by himself.

Suddenly Giacomo reached up and grabbed the end of Draco's sleeve, his face pure desperation. "Malfoy, boy, you have to help me! Please, she must love me! I'll go mad!"

Draco's wide eyes stared down at the pitiful wizard who was clinging to his robes and crying, amazed at how calm and collected he had been only moments ago. He looked over at Hermione questioningly, but she shrugged in response, unsure herself of what they were supposed to do now.

_Sure, stupid old coot gets us in this mess, but doesn't tell us how to get out of it. Typical Dumbledore, _Draco thought to himself irritably.

Giacomo finally released his sleeve in defeat, and slumped back into his chair once more, hiding his face in his hands as he continued to cry.

Draco pulled Hermione into a corner where they couldn't be overheard, even though it was unlikely considering the Italian wizard's current condition.

"Well, now what do we do, Granger? This is ridiculous! He's not going to help us, the man has gone batty!" he cried, glancing out of the corner of his eye to make sure Giacomo hadn't heard that. He was relieved to see the other Malfoy blowing snot into his sleeve, totally oblivious.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, just as lost as Draco. "It seems that we only have two options I suppose. We either get him to remove it somehow, or we find Cassiopeia and convince her to fall in love with this wacko."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, those are really plausible options! If she didn't want him when he was being suave and giving her gifts, do you really think she's going to fall for this blubbering idiot?"

They looked over briefly to see Giacomo still crying into his hands, mumbling something about never loving anyone again and dying alone in a dirt hole. Hermione chuckled a little at this scene, she couldn't help it. Draco narrowed his eyes at her incredulously.

"And just what are you _laughing_ at? This isn't funny!" he snarled in a whisper.

"I—I'm sorry, it's just—Malfoy, _this_ is what you came from?" she laughed, keeping a hand over her mouth to keep the noise down. "No wonder you put up such a hard exterior, underneath you're just like a little _girl_!"

Draco whipped out his wand so quickly she barely had time to blink before it was under her chin and at her throat. The laughter died on her lips as she stared wide-eyed into his stormy grey orbs that were barely slits. She was afraid he was actually going to hex her or something, but as soon as their eyes connected, the jinx sprang to life.

Hermione's heartbeat increased substantially, beating like a drum in her ribcage and matching the rhythm that was pulsing inside of Draco. He dropped the hand the held his wand, slipping it back inside his robes, and then latched onto her waist, pulling her against him forcefully. Hermione was crushed to his chest, but didn't find it unpleasant. She was still staring at him, but her brown eyes had gone soft and searching, boring into his with a probing intensity. Soon, Hermione realized that Draco's lips were being lowered to her own, getting closer and closer until—

"_Stupefy_!"

A jet of red light that came out of the end of Giacomo's wand hit the pair of them, knocking them to the ground with a sickening thud. With a cruel smile, he walked over to them and looked down upon their faces, their glassy but still aware eyes blankly staring back at him.

"Stupid children, you should never trust your first impressions! Or a Malfoy, for that matter. So easily fooled by tears and matters of the heart," the wizard chided them, smirking triumphantly. "Now that you are out of my way, I will cast the jinx upon Cassiopeia at tonight's party and she will love me forever!"

He stepped over them and headed towards the door, then stopped short. "Oh I almost forgot—_ Incarcerous_!" A loud bang resounded off the high ceilings as ropes shot out of his wand to bind Draco and Hermione together by their hands and feet. "Wouldn't want you escaping, now would we?" Giacomo laughed at himself, pleased with his work.

"I do hope you've enjoyed your stay," he offered, and with that he grabbed his wildflower bouquet and walked out the door, letting it close behind him with a definitive slam.


	12. The Surprise Savior

As she lay there waiting for the effects of the curse to wear off, Hermione's mind was in overdrive. _I can't believe I fell for that! Stupid jinx had me all hot and bothered! Ok, ok…well now what? How are we going to get rid of this jinx without the guy who created it? This is all bloody brilliant! We never should have come…_

_I told you it was a bad idea._

Hermione jumped inside her mind, figuratively speaking of course.

_Malfoy! What are you doing in my head?_

_I'm talking to you, woman! What do you think?_

_I meant how are you in my head? I was thinking to myself…_

_How should I know? I can just hear your thoughts somehow while we're unconscious. Strange, isn't it?_

_Blimey, yes! But also sort of wonderfully convenient. I wonder if Dumbledore is doing this?_

_Granger, he's a wizard, not God. Maybe we both just hit our heads really hard and this is all just a figment of our imagination._

_I suppose that's possible. _

_I had you hot and bothered, did I?_ She could feel, rather than see, the smirk he would have been wearing had they really been talking to one another.

_No! The jinx made me distracted is all. Don't be silly._

_Granger, you and I both know it's not the jinx anymore._

The silence was profound as she decided how to reply to that.

_Why would you say that?_

_Don't pretend that you haven't felt stronger feelings than before. Dumbledore didn't say the jinx grew, did he? What else could it be?_

_I'll admit, I had thought about that before. But it's impossible._

_Why?_

_Because we can't like each other! It's just…wrong! _

_Can't or won't?_

_Blimey, stop questioning me, Malfoy! What about you, huh? Are you saying that you love me now? Is that was this is, a declaration?_

_Bloody hell, don't go assuming horrible things like that! I was just pointing out a fact. _

_Well, the fact of the matter is that, stronger feelings or not, this jinx is still on us, and our only hope of getting rid of it just walked out the door! So what are we supposed to do now?_

_We could always banter aimlessly until we become conscious again._

_Merlin, you are infuriating!_

_I aim to please._

_You know, maybe if you weren't an insufferable prat, I'd actually like you._

_Maybe if you weren't a know-it-all goody-too-shoes, I'd like you too._

_Good, well now that that's cleared up, let's wake up now, ok?_

_You can't just say, "let's wake up now," and you'll wake up, Granger. It doesn't work that way._

_Sure it does. Just watch._

The first thing Draco realized was that his arms and shoulders hurt, sending dull but continuous waves of pain throughout his upper body. The second thing was that Hermione was right about waking up; his eyelids squinted open into the bright light of the sitting room, where the windows were letting in generous amounts of sunlight. The third thing was that he had had a conversation with his fellow Head _inside_ their heads. The fourth thing was that he was clearly going crazy.

Hermione moaned, evidently waking up herself and finding that her body ached as well from being squashed up against him and bound together.

Draco spoke first. "Did…did we just have a conversation inside our heads?"

Hermione stared at him with narrowed eyes, trying to see if he was being serious or not, then replied, "I'm not sure what you mean." Of course she _did_ know what he meant, but didn't want to seem like any more of a mental patient than he probably thought she was.

"Oh, comon', I'm not crazy, we talked in our heads! When we were unconscious, you and I talked to each other…but not out loud. Don't you remember?" he implored her to believe. "You told me you loved me."

That got a response out of her. "I did no such thing! You're the one who said that!" she cried.

"A-ha! So you do remember," said Draco triumphantly. "And I didn't say I loved you, just that the feelings have gotten stronger, that's all. Don't go assuming things, Granger. I mean, I know you want me to love you due to the fact that you fancy me something awful, but let's not go crazy here."

Her teeth ground together in irritation at his smirk. "Trust me, that's the _last_ thing I would assume. If any feelings have gotten stronger, it's the feeling that I can't believe I'm stuck to such an arrogant prat!"

"Oh, come now, no need to compliment me." Draco grinned devilishly at her, which only infuriated her more.

"We need to get these ropes off," the rational side of Hermione broke in as she tried to push her anger down for the moment. Finding a way out of this situation was more important than arguing with a Malfoy, she had decided.

"Brilliant observation," Draco replied dryly, taking the hint. He struggled for a moment with the bindings, but they were tight and unyielding. "It's no use, we're stuck."

"Can you reach your wand?" she questioned. "I can't get to mine."

Draco looked down at what he could see of himself, searching for the thin piece of wood that was normally in his robe pocket, but found nothing. Frowning, he said, "No, it must have fallen out of my robes when Giacomo cursed us. Stupid git."

"Sheesh, Malfoy family loyalty doesn't go far, does it?" Hermione said sarcastically, finally looking into his eyes.

"He stopped being a Malfoy when he betrayed us," Draco answered bitterly.

"Really? That's sort of exactly what I would expect a Malfoy to do."

He looked hurt for a brief moment, then let his anger take over. "That's all you're ever going to think of me, isn't it? That I'm some sort of monster incapable of feeling anything at all?"

Hermione's hard expression softened at once, immediately regretting what she had said. "I—Malfoy, I'm sorry. It's just, that's how you've always been to me, to everyone. You're so careful not to let anyone see you any differently, is it really my fault for seeing you in exactly the way you _want_ me to?"

It seemed that made him think for a minute or so before he spoke up again. "My father always taught me that to love is to destroy. To feel is to be weak. He constructed my careful exterior since I was a boy, so that I would do as he said and be tough enough to follow the Dark Lord when I was older. It was only when I began to fear both of them that I started to remember I had options—I didn't _have_ to be this way. It wasn't until the Dark Lord was dead that I felt it was safe to let some of my guards down, but it's not easy after all these years. It's like I have to peel back layer after layer of false identities to find the real me underneath it all. Like I have a stone wall in-between the real me and what everyone else sees…it's just taking a while to pull it down brick by brick."

Hermione was stunned into silence, not expecting this detour into the inner workings of Draco Malfoy. Did he really feel _all_ of that? Maybe he had a heart after all, it was just caged up inside of him, scared to be free.

"I didn't know you felt that way," she whispered.

"No one does. It's all part of the bad boy act, you know," he said with a smirk, trying to laugh it off.

She reached up and touched his face, causing his muscles to tense.

"I wish you wouldn't act around me so much." Her chocolate eyes stared straight into the depths of his soul, touching a part of him that had been buried long ago. His muscles began to relax under the warmth of her skin.

"I don't think you'd believe me if I did," he replied, sadness touching his voice.

"You'd be surprised. I believe your act was pretty much absent when you rescued me this summer. That was the _real_ you, wasn't it?"

Draco stared at her for a second before answering, remembering that night. He shook his head. "Granger…" He paused again, as if trying to clear his head.

"I was watching it happen, you know, just around the corner. He wanted me there in case something went wrong and I needed to be a distraction while he got away. Father had a follower of the Dark Lord take polyjuice potion when he went to visit, and father did as well, so you see, they traded places of sorts. His minion just had to keep downing the stuff so no one would figure out he was gone. I was waiting while it happened, and then there you were, about to fall off your broom, lurking not too far from where I was. Of course you remember what happened next—father came out, disguised as someone else, and saw you.

"All those years of training to kill those who were beneath me, those my family hated, and there you were, the ideal target. My father was going to kill you, and then we wouldn't have to worry about you blabbing to the ministry about how he wasn't in Azkaban anymore. But that's when something snapped inside me. You were just being a bloody idiot and sticking your nose where it didn't belong, but you were innocent. Did you deserve to die because of that? For the first time, I thought no. I didn't think too much after that, I just acted. I suppose that's how I ended up nearly killing my own father…it didn't require much thought. I think the shock that I actually attempted that on him gave us the distraction we needed to get out of there. So I took you far away from him and Azkaban."

Hermione was still staring at him, so focused upon what he was saying that she was barely blinking.

"Yes, Hermione, I think that was part of the real me. The 'me' I'm trying to become. And I think…it's all because of you."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "M_e_? Malfoy, you can't be serious. I'm the last person on this planet that could even begin to change you."

He laughed a little at this. "That's precisely why you did. Something about you made me switch sides at that moment, and I think I've been changing ever since."

Suddenly she looked angry, a thought occurring to her. "But you've been horrid to me all semester! How is that a change from how you normally treat me?"

Draco sighed apologetically. "It's not, you're right. Like I said it's hard. And being an insufferable prat around you is kind of amusing to me." He grinned as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, so you enjoy taunting, teasing, and irritating me?"

"Absolutely! It's one of my favorite past times, you know, besides trying to make Weasel and Potty's lives a living hell."

Hermione snorted in agreement. "You're definitely succeeding, in both areas."

There was an awkward silence as the pair stared at each other for a moment, the rare intimate conversation leaving them both uncomfortable.

"Er…well, shouldn't we figure a way to get out of here?" Draco suggested, trying to break the tension.

"Yeah, I suppose. Although without our wands, and our hands bound, I don't exactly know how that's going to happen."

As if in answer to her just-voiced thoughts on the matter, a small squeak was heard from their left, almost as if to get their attention.

"Who's there!" Draco boomed, trying to sound intimidating even though he was so clearly not.

Hermione could see better than he could in that direction, so she strained her head a little bit farther to the side. In the corner stood a small elf, smaller than usual, actually, who was dirty from head to toe and wore a gray sack that hung in tatters off its body.

"Oh! Hello there!" she said in a cheerful voice.

"Who is it? Who do you see?" Draco said. It was clear by his attempts at turning his head that he was frustrated only Hermione could see the stranger.

"It's just a house elf, Malfoy, calm yourself. He could help us," she answered.

The elf stared at her from the corner, twisting its hands together in discomfort. It squeaked again in response to Hermione's greeting and bounced a little on its heels, seeming very nervous.

"Oh, splendid, a _house elf_ is going to free us, eh? Likely," he scowled. Hermione chose to ignore his comment, hoping the elf hadn't heard any of it.

"It's alright, your Master has gone. Please, if you could help us we would be very appreciative," Hermione addressed the elf in a pleasant tone.

"Hanky c-can't missus! Hanky's m-m-master will be very u-unhapp-py with him!" he whined in a high pitched voice.

"Mister Malfoy is gone, Hanky!" Hermione encouraged. "He won't be back for a long time, okay? If you let us free, we can protect you from him, I promise!"

The little elf inched his way closer to the two students, very slowly, as if expecting Giacomo to spring out at him any second and bash his head in. Hermione beckoned him forward with more heartening words until he stood at their side.

"All you have to do is untie these ropes, Hanky, that's it," Hermione explained.

The little elf glanced nervously around, still worried about being caught by his master, but clearly torn between fear and doing what was right. He reached out and touched the knot timidly, almost as if he thought an alarm might go off to announce his disobedience to Master Mafloy. When one did not, however, and Hermione smiled at him again, he began to untie the ropes. The Hogwarts students were surprised at the strength this small elf had, for he had them free in a matter of seconds.

Draco stood and brushed himself off, stretching his arms out since they had been trapped in an awkward position. He glanced around to find his wand, and, upon spotting it lying in the corner, went to retrieve it. On the other side of the room, Hermione got up and immediately hugged Hanky, much to his alarm and surprise.

"Oh, thank you, Hanky! You saved us!" she squealed in delight, holding his tiny frame to her chest.

Draco watched in disgust. "Granger, you're going to choke the thing to death. I think he's rather afraid of you, anyhow, just look at him."

It was true; Hanky's eyes were wide with fear due to Hermione's outburst of affection.

No Malfoy would have ever hugged a house elf, so it was probably the first time he had ever received any sort of friendliness.

No sooner had Hermione put him down, Hanky ran over to the wall and proceeded to bang his head on it repeatedly.

"Bad Hanky! Bad! He-he m-musn't do s-s-such things! M-master will be v-very angry indeed!" he cried in-between abusing himself.

"Stop it!" Hermione pleaded as she rushed over and attempted to pry him off the wall. "Don't punish yourself for being brave! Malfoy, do something, can't you see how sick this is?"

With a roll of his eyes, Draco stepped over and pulled Hanky away from his instrument of torture, holding onto him by the back of his sack cloth.

"Hanky, I am a Malfoy too, and I order you to stop hurting yourself," he said to appease his fellow Head. Somehow the elf knew this to be true, and held still once more. "Now, where can we find your master? You must know where he went."

Hanky's large eyes stared up at Draco. "M-master went to a party, h-he did."

"Where is it? In the town?"

"Y-yes sir, in the t-town hall, sir."

"Splendid. Let's go, Granger."

Hermione had been staring at Hanky, her thoughts absorbed with how to free him and all the other elves of the world, when Draco's words got through to her brain. She shook her head and trained her attention on him, now confused.

"Wait, where are we going? Aren't we going to help Hanky?"

Draco stared at her incredulously. "We hardly have time to help a house elf! We have more pressing matters at hand, or have you forgotten? The whole reason we're here is to get rid of this bloody jinx!"

"I haven't forgotten!" she snarled back indignantly. "I just thought we might help out the elf that saved our lives, Malfoy."

"We don't have _time_!" he yelled, stepping up to her. "The jinx is getting stronger by the minute, if we don't do something soon…" He let the end of his sentence dangle ominously.

Hermione looked between Draco, who was seething with anger, and Hanky, who stood innocently in the corner watching them with bright eyes. She had made up her mind and planned on staying firm no matter what Draco said.

"Alright, look, once we get the jinx off, can we come back for him? Please?"

"Fine, Granger, whatever you want. Can we just go now?"

"Right." She turned to the house elf one last time as Draco dragged her out the door.

"We'll be back for you, Hanky!" He gave a feeble little wave and smile as the door shut and they could no longer see the elf that had freed them.

The two Heads trudged back down the hill as fast as they could, but this ended up being more difficult than anticipated; they fought against blustery winds, were in almost utter darkness, and were now on the same narrow ledge Draco had almost fallen off of hours before.

"Just what exactly do you plan on doing once we get to this party, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she struggled to keep up with him.

Draco stomped onwards with his teeth set and brow furrowed, the perfect picture of a determined Slytherin. He was getting quite tired of all these questions that he clearly had no answers to. He grunted in response.

Hermione continued to prattle on. "I mean, what if Giacomo has friends there? What if he gets them to 'take care of us'? And how do you plan on getting him to agree to taking the jinx off of us? Merlin, we don't even know if he made an antijinx at all!"

"Granger, SHUT UP!" He whirled around to face her, stopping the startled girl in her tracks. She looked up at him with wide eyes, very aware of the hands that were gripping her tightly by the shoulders. Draco took a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remain calm despite the tension that was flowing through his body like a live wire.

"Listen, I don't know what we're going to do, ok? I have no more idea than you do. I just…I just _have_ to get this jinx off of us. That's all I know. Now, do you want to stop and discuss plans, or get to that party before that crazy nutter casts the jinx that will ruin our last year at Hogwarts?"

He stared at her expectantly, intensity pounding through his veins and causing his heart to increase in tempo. Hermione's own pulse was trilling beneath her skin, and suddenly Draco's hands on her arms felt like hot irons. She nodded at him, understanding what he needed the most right then was some time to think. Unfortunately, time was the one thing they were short on.

With that confirmation, Draco turned back towards the town and recommenced the trek down the hillside, Hermione following behind again, but this time completely silent.

Before long, they could see the outline of the small village and twinkling lights coming from storefronts and homes. The wind carried to them faint sounds of people laughing and cheering, along with some fast-paced music produced by fiddles and flutes. Once within a hundred yards of the gate, it was easy to find the town hall. A large building that was the size of at least four homes stood to the east of the entrance, aglow with lanterns of all shapes and sizes and filled to capacity with seemingly the entire town. A small band was positioned on a stage at one end, and gypsy dancers in colorful clothing slinked through the throng of people, enticing the drunken men to dance with them.

Eyeing them, Draco smirked over at Hermione. "This is my kind of party!" he yelled over the music. She rolled her eyes and pushed him forward into the crowd, wanting to get to the stage so she could climb up and have a look around. No sooner had she pushed Draco in, though, he was gone.

"Malfoy! Malfoy, where did you go?" Hermione cried in distress. She tried to stand up on her tip-toes to look for him, but Italian men surrounded her from every side, and there was no seeing over them. _I must get to that stage! Then I can find Malfoy and Giacomo. I can't see over these bloody giants!_ She muttered in her head.

Hermione pushed her way through the mass, occasionally getting carried off to the side here and there due to the swaying of the crowd. Finally, she struggled through two people passionately kissing, who readily rewarded her with angry Italian words and nasty glares, and she was next to the stage. She hauled herself up and scanned the crowd, trying to find the one blonde amongst all the dark-haired men. At the far end, she caught a flash of bright hair and was about to head in that direction when she took a double-take, alarmed at the image that met her eyes.

Draco was posted up against a pillar by the scruff of his neck, a man with hair that matched his perfectly holding him there and shouting at him. Draco wore a mask of hatred, but Hermione could see the fear underneath it. That could only mean one thing—_Giacomo!_

Hermione leapt from the stage and proceeded to run to the pair so she could—what? What was she going to do once she got there? Seeing this glaring flaw in her plan, she came to an abrupt halt on the outskirts of the hall and concealed herself behind a pillar while she deliberated her options.

_Think, Hermione, THINK! There's not much time until Malfoy gets hauled away, tortured and killed, and if I don't think of something quick I'll never forgive myself for letting him die! I'm a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! I should be brave and cunning! Ok…I need a distraction, something to get his attention off of Draco…_

At that precise moment, a woman with flowing, ebony hair swirled by her with a handsome man, their bodies moving together to a romantic song. Her tinkling laugh floated easily through the room due to the slow-paced song that was currently playing, and Hermione saw Giacomo's head whip around from the corner of her eye. She studied him as he watched her, his mouth turning up into an adoring smile, his grip on Draco slackening, and his eyes darkening with desire. It was no mystery who this woman was, considering the way every man in the building, including Giacomo, stared at her in wonder and awe. Hermione grinned, confident the plan unraveling in her mind would work like a charm.


	13. Plans and Apologies

Or so she hoped. Every time she thought about what she was going to do and inched closer to the crowd, she got nervous butterflies in her stomach and pressed herself back against the pillar. _I can't do this! This woman is going to think I'm insane, and she'll probably slap me or pull out my hair…I don't know, I've never been in a girl fight but that's normally what happens, right? Oh Merlin, what is wrong with me? I just need to do this. I'm a bloody Gryffindor!_

Then Hermione noticed something that had evaded her before. Each time the couple passed by where Giacomo was standing in awe, Cassiopeia turned her a head slightly to the side and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. When she discovered he was watching her, she would then smile as brightly as possible and pull her partner closer, enjoying the look of anger that it caused on Malfoy's face. _Now _that_ I can work with!_

The next time Cassiopeia passed by Hermione, she grabbed the Italian witch by her arm and yanked her behind the pillar she was currently using as a hiding spot.

"Excuse me! Get your hands off me, you—" Cassiopeia tried to snap at her, but Hermione covered her mouth before anyone noticed her outburst.

"I'm sorry, just listen ok? I need to speak with you, it's very important," Hermione spoke fervently.

The woman eyed her warily, anger still present in her expression for being handled in such a way. She irritably pulled Hermione's hand away from her mouth so she could talk.

"What do you wish to speak with me about? You just took me away from a very handsome dance partner, I'll have you know!" She said, indicating with a glance the man she had been dancing with only moments before—he now looked utterly bewildered that his partner had vanished so suddenly.

Hermione noted that his appearance _was_ quite striking. "Yes, I know, and again I'm sorry, but this is of the utmost importance. All I need is a moment of your time. Please?"

Cassiopeia sighed heavily and then smiled despite herself. "Well, he'll come find me again anyway, they always do! Now what is on your mind young stranger?"

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and relaxed a little. _Ok, good, she's listening!_

"Well, I just thought you ought to know….Giacomo is engaged!" Hermione told her, acting as if it was completely normal that they would discuss something like this.

Cassiopeia stared at her in confusion and disbelief. "And…why exactly would I care about _that_imbecile? I do not associate with him."

The young Gryffindor gulped, nervous about how her plan was working out after all. "Well, you're secretly in love with him, aren't you?" she encouraged with an excited smile.

Cassiopeia threw back her head and laughed. "In love with him! Ha! You must be out of your mind if you think I'd ever love someone like him! Of course, I haven't been blind to his attempts at wooing me, but _that's_ not going to happen anytime soon. He is a vile creature!"

Hermione pretended to be astonished at this news. "Giacomo, vile?! It can't be true, whatever makes you think that?"

The Italian witch's eyes darkened in malice. "He used to call me a name that I have never forgotten; a name that hurt me deeply and scarred my childhood with taunting and hatred."

This was starting to sound familiar to Hermione. "What name was it?"

She started right into her eyes as she replied, "_Mudblood_."

Fresh anger of her own simmered to the surface inside of Hermione. _Malfoys will never change, not even after centuries!_ She gritted her teeth and nodded at the other woman, letting her know she sympathized.

"I, too, have been called that name by a Malfoy when I was young. Even now, I still hear it from time to time. It's not really a word one hears in civilized conversation," she seethed.

"So then you understand why he is so vile! How could I ever begin to love someone who thinks me no better than the dirt on his shoes?" Cassiopeia explained. "There was a time…but no, that doesn't bear thinking about. There is no way now, I shall never love him!"

Hermione pushed her anger to the side for the moment and latched onto what she just heard. "Wait, there was a time…what? That you _did_ love him?"

"NO!" she shouted loudly, stepping away from Hermione. "Do not pretend to know me, you are but a strange girl—I'm not even sure why I am talking to you about this! Who are you? Why did you come to tell me this?"

_Crap. Now what? The truth or more lies? Be a Gryffindor, be a Gryffindor!_

"Listen, it doesn't matter who I am, the point is I'm here to help you. I've been where you are right now and the truth is…people can change. I'm not saying Malfoy has, but you need to give him a chance. I learned the hard way that there's more to someone than what meets the eye, and you can discover amazing things about them if you just give them the opportunity. If you keep yourself stuck in the past, you'll never find out what a wonderful future you can have."

Hermione quickly realized how much she needed to take her own advice, but with a different blonde-headed Malfoy. _I've been so stuck in the past that I haven't been able to see the person right in front of me…I'm..I'm just as bad as a Malfoy when it comes down to it—living by my own foolish prejudice! _She trained her attention back on Cassiopeia as the two witches stared at each other, one hopeful and one skeptical.

"But you have told me he is engaged now, there is nothing to be done about it," Cassiopeia replied, still wary about revealing things to this stranger.

"Win him back! He loves you Cassiopeia, I know he does. All you have to do is tell him how you really feel and you can be together. Don't let your past and pride get in the way of having true love!" Hermione exclaimed animatedly.

A flicker of a smile flashed across the Italian witch's face, momentarily lighting up her features. "Do you really think so?"

Hermione impulsively grabbed her hands in her own. "I know so. Now go! Go get your man back!"

"Put—me—DOWN!" Draco yelled, getting as much spit as possible onto Giacomo in the process. He threw the younger Malfoy to the floor so he could wipe the spittle from his face, fury evident in every movement he made.

"You come to ruin my plans, foolish boy! I care not that you are kin, I would kill my own brother if he stood in my way!" the elder man shouted as he stood over Draco.

Even though a cheerful party was happening only a few feet away, Giacomo was focused on making sure that this oddly familiar stranger didn't mess up the only chance he had at real love. Although, he had to admit, it was hard to stay on task when the object of his affection was standing mere yards away. Every time Cassiopeia twirled by with her dashing dance partner, all Giacomo wanted to do was throw him up against a wall and choke him to death, or rip out his hair, or bash in his teeth—anything to get his filthy hands off of his beloved. Seized with jealousy, Giacomo did the only other thing he could at the moment, which was torment the young Malfoy so that he didn't get in the way a _third_ time.

"I don't get you, why don't you just use a love potion or something? What's the big deal about this jinx?" Draco snarled up at him.

"You don't think I've tried that? Tried _everything_? She sees right through me and evades drinking it, or gets someone else to so that it backfires and some random woman is in love with me instead. She does enjoy trifling with my emotions, I'll tell you that much!"

"Why does she hate you so much? No one simply dislikes another right off the bat, there must have been something—"

"She's a _Mudblood_," Giacomo stated, sounding disappointed and disgusted all at once, although whether it was with himself was unsure.

Draco stared at him, completely confused. "So…she hates you because you're a _pureblood_? I've certainly never heard that one before."

For a moment Giacomo looked slightly ashamed of himself, but it passed before Draco could be sure (those expressions weren't common among Malfoys, you see). "Well…I…she, she didn't exactly hate me because of my blood status. She hated me because I might have been a tiny bit prejudiced against hers."

He rolled his eyes then, mentally kicking himself for not figuring this out sooner. "She hates you because you've been calling her a Mudblood for years, haven't you?"

"Well she is one! I don't exactly approve of dirty bloodlines, me being a Malfoy and all. What would my family think? My father! He would turn over in his grave if he knew I even talked to her at all!"

Somehow this was all sounding extremely familiar to Draco. _Sheesh, us Malfoys never really change, do we? Even after all this time…you'd think there would be some evolution, but I guess we are as stubborn and rotten as they come._ Sensing it was probably safe to do so, Draco stood up and brushed himself off. He then took a deep breath and started straight into Giacomo's eyes.

"Alright, listen up mate. You're a Malfoy, right?" Draco paused to let Giacomo nod his head. "Ok, well then I think it's clear what you have to do. _Be a bloody Malfoy,_ for Merlin's sake! You've got just as much power and right to do as you please as everyone else in this blasted family, and if you don't stand up for what you want now, they're going to be running your life forever! Is that what you want? Do you really want to blindly follow our family's sick tradition of blood prejudice, or do you want to screw all of that and be with the woman you love?"

As soon as the words left Draco's mouth, he realized how true they were, and not just for Giacomo._Bloody hell, I'm preaching to the choir._ _How come none of that ever made sense before it came out of my own mouth? _He thought in wonder. Before he could dwell on the mess that was his heart, though, Giacomo stood up straighter with a mad gleam in his eye.

"By Merlin, you're right! I _am_ a bloody Malfoy! I do whatever I want, when I want, and I don't take directions from anyone, especially not my own family!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "I'm going to do something no Malfoy has ever done, and probably never will do following this day—I'm going to apologize!"

With that, the Italian wizard marched off in search of his lady love, leaving Draco standing there wondering how he had actually pulled that off without being hexed.

Hermione struggled to follow Cassiopeia as she weaved in and out of the large crowd, searching for the elder Malfoy.

"Wait, Cassiopeia! I can't get through—" Hermione shouted above the din. In another second, though, the woman was lost within the throng.

"Blast! Where did she go?" she cursed aloud.

"Hermione!" Someone grabbed her forearm at that exact moment, spinning her around. Upon seeing who it was, she lit up with joy and relief.

"Draco! Oh, thank goodness you're ok!" she cried, throwing her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. Even though any other time he would have balked at the idea of hugging Hermione Granger, Draco grinned and pulled her closer, relieved himself that they were no longer separated, even if it was only ten feet. It did not escape either Head's notice that they called one another by their first names, yet for the first time they didn't find it strange.

She pulled away and looked up at him, still smiling and…was she blushing? Draco was fairly certain that she was. This thought made his stomach flop over a little.

He pulled them both to the side and out of the way of all the dancing people where they could hear each other better. "Well, what happened? Where did you go?" he asked, breaking the not-unpleasant silence.

Hermione's eyes immediately got wide with excitement, just like they always did when she was bursting with news. "I found Cassiopeia! Draco, she's in love with Giacomo, she just hated him because he always called her—"

"—a Mudblood?" he finished knowingly.

Hermione looked curiously shocked. "Well, yes! But how did you know?"

"Giacomo and I had a little chat while he had me pinned against the wall," he said with a sarcastic laugh. "He told me all about it, and then I convinced him to screw his family prejudice and go be with her."

She beamed up at him upon hearing this. "That's excellent! Although, I sort of told Cassiopeia he was engaged to make her jealous, but then I told _her_ to let go of her past hatred of him and give him a second chance."

Draco laughed at this. "I guess great minds think alike, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess they do." Hermione smiled back.

Suddenly, Draco's grin faltered a bit. "Wait, you told her he was engaged? What's going to happen when she finds out you lied to her? And, hold on, where did they go anyway?"

The pair looked all around them and in every direction, but there was no sign of either Giacomo or Cassiopeia.

Hermione's hope deflated like a popped balloon as her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Great, now what are we supposed to do? Just hope that they fall in love and live happily ever after? I'm not betting my future on that, thank you very much! I just wish there was some way we could figure out where they went…"

Draco snapped his fingers all of a sudden. "That's it! Hold on, it's here somewhere…" He began to rifle through the pockets of his robe until he latched onto something and drew it out for his classmate to see.

"Twink!" She grabbed her book out of Malfoy's hand and hugged it to her chest.

Draco raised a curious brow at her. "I'm sorry, _Twink_? You named your book? Even that's a little strange for you, Granger," he chuckled.

Hermione played it off by rolling her eyes at him. "Look, that's what the lady at the bookshop called it, ok? Now tell me, where did you get this?"

"I just shrunk it and put it in my pocket when you were getting stuff together before we left for Hogsmeade. I always saw you looking stuff up in it, so I figured it might be useful while we were here," he shrugged.

Hermione crushed him in another hug. "Draco! You're brilliant!"

Draco coughed and feigned being unable to breathe. "You're—killing—me—Hermione." She laughed at this, releasing him.

"And yes," he added, still smirking, "I'm quite aware of my brilliance."

Hermione once again rolled her eyes (she did that a lot around him), and took out her wand, muttering a spell to bring the book back to its original size.

"Hermione!" Twink exclaimed in relief as her face appeared on the cover, "I was getting worried, I thought the slimy git had stolen me from you!"

Draco stared at the book with a look of shock. "I'm sorry, but did that _book_ just _talk_ to you?" He shook his head as if to clear it, and blinked rapidly as if to make sure the face would still be there the next time he opened his eyes.

Hermione had completely forgotten that he had no idea about her magical book, and quickly explained. "Oh, Malfoy, this is Twink, my magical book. She can talk and can basically show me anything I want to see or know."

Draco still stared at her in disbelief, apparently trying to get his head around a talking book. Meanwhile, Twink glared at him angrily, her eyes narrowed and menacing. Suddenly, she started shouting at him, "You should be ashamed of yourself, Draco Malfoy! You have been nothing but horrible to this poor girl, and she has done nothing to you! You, with all your arrogance and pride, walking around like you're God's gift to women! Ha! You disgust me! She cares for you more than yo—"

Hermione's eyes widened at her outburst and she covered Twink's face hastily with her robes to muffle the shouting.

"Er…sorry about that, I didn't know she was the…uh…protective type," Hermione apologized awkwardly, Twink's stifled cries still present in the background.

Evidently Draco had broken out of his stupor due to being scolded by a book, and was now looking at Hermione, an unexplainable expression on his face. Hermione stared back, unable to discern if he was about to laugh at her or yell back at Twink.

He opened his mouth to say something, but soon after closed it, frowning. It seemed as though an intense internal battle was occurring inside of Draco and, after what felt like an hour to Hermione, he finally spoke.

"I'm…sorry, Hermione."

It took her a moment to realize what he had just said, it being so rare a phrase that came out of her fellow Head's mouth. She was going to ask him what he meant, but was spared when he continued.

"I really have been horrible, haven't I?" he grinned a little, self-mockingly. "After all we've been through, after everything, you don't deserve to be treated like anything less that the wonderful woman you are. I'm sorry that it was at my hands that you were made to feel so terrible, Hermione. I misjudged you completely, and hope that one day you will be able to forgive what I have done—what my whole family has done—to you and your friends."

Hermione stared at him, wanting to gape but being unable due to the increasing amount of moisture that was threatening to fall from her eyes.

"You…," she began softly, stepping closer to him an inch. She smiled and laughed a little, shaking her head in disbelief. "You apologized. Draco Malfoy apologized to me. I never thought I'd see the day."

It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes and puff out his chest, trying to shrug it off in an effort to salvage his pride. "Real men have the ability to admit they were wrong. Seeing as I am a prime example of one, I do tend to apologize now and then. But you really should accept, it's quite rude to leave me unforgiven, you know."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him laughingly. "Oh, is it? Well then I most definitely accept your apology, Mister Malfoy. Seriously, though," she stopped laughing and looked into his eyes. "Thank you. It means more than you know."

Just when Draco was thinking that their eye contact was getting a little too close for comfort, a small voice piped up, making both parties jump in surprise.

"Excuse me! I'm still down here, you know, and I'd like to know what's going on!" Twink said irritably.

Hermione chuckled at her book and explained what had happened in the past few hours.

"So what do you need me to find for you?" Twink asked once she had finished, ready to be used once again.

"I need you to find Giacomo and Cassiopeia, we lost track of them and have no idea where they went," Hermione said as she rifled through pages. "Aha! This is perfect Twink!"

Hermione had landed on a page that displayed a map of the surrounding area with little dots that indicated where Giacomo, Cassiopeia, and Draco were. She even spotted a little red circle with her own name on it. It currently stated that she and Draco were in the town hall and, looking over a bit, that Giacomo was fast approaching Cassiopeia near the Owlry.

"They're by the Owlry, just there!" Hermione cried excitedly to Draco as he leaned over for a better view. "Hurry, we have to catch them before things get ugly!"

The pair darted out of the town hall and around the corner as fast as they could, Hermione stowing Twink inside her own robes (despite the book's many protests to see all the action). Draco stopped abruptly at the end of the building and peered around the side to view the Owlry without being seen himself. Hermione stepped up close behind him and watched from over his shoulder.

Cassiopeia was standing in the middle of the semi-circular outpost that was the Owlry. It appeared that she was searching for an owl with whom to send a letter, but was interrupted as Giacomo finally caught up to her.

"Draco, go!" Hermione whispered urgently. "We have to stop them and tell them the truth!"

"Shh!" he chided quietly. "Let's see what happens first, they may not even need us to intervene."

"Cassiopeia!" Giacomo exclaimed as he tried to catch his breath. "I have been looking for you everywhere—"

"You have?" she cut him off, her voice anxious, her stomach a knot of anticipation.

He stared at her, nervous but intent. "Yes, yes I had to see you, to talk to you. I had a revelation tonight, one that has been a long time coming."

He paused for a moment and took a deep breath, during which time Cassiopeia watched him with a certain amount of impossible hope.

"I wanted to say…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I have caused in your life, all the names I called you and taunted you with. I was a horrid person, not even worthy to be called a man, or be in your presence for that matter! You should cast me aside even now; it would be justified, albeit painful for me. But I matter not! It is you, my dear Cassiopeia, that matter more, more to me than you can fathom. My past taught me that you and I were not to be, but I say differently! I say that I can be with whoever I want, and that blood should not be the thing that stands between us and our happiness!"

"Oh, Giacomo!" Cassiopeia cried, turning away from him and putting her face in her hands. She looked up at him through bleary eyes, her expression pained.

"How am I supposed to believe you? How am I supposed to forgive years of torment and self-loathing? I hated myself because of you—hated my blood and parentage because it made me unable to be with you! Don't you understand that?"

Giacomo, who was clearly unprepared for this reaction, quickly went to her, taking her hands in his own. "Forgive me, I was a foolish child! I only said those things because it was how I was raised, and only now do I see how wrong I was, how much I wish I could take it all back! Your blood does not define you, nor does mine define me. We are who we choose to be, and we love who we choose to love. I choose you, Cassiopeia, I choose _you_."

Her lip trembled as she tried to hold back her tears, but it was of no use. They spilled out onto her cheeks and she broke away from Giacomo abruptly, taking a step backwards while she shook her head.

"You cannot choose me, you have already chosen someone else!" she wailed, hugging her arms close to herself in comfort.

Giacomo's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You-u…you're _engaged_," she said as fresh tears made their way down her face. It was at this point that Draco and Hermione exchanged looks of fear, and they edged slightly closer in case they needed to break in upon the unhappy scene.

"Engaged!" Giacomo exclaimed in disbelief. "Who on earth told you that? I am not engaged, nor would I be to anyone but you!"

"I—I don't know! Some strange girl, she ambushed me at the hall and told me you were engaged!" Cassiopeia replied with a wimper.

"A strange girl? But who could poss—," Giacomo paused midsentence, understanding dawning on his face and quickly replaced with anger. "Those meddlesome fools! They have tried to thwart me twice, but they will not get a third chance—I will end them once and for all!"

It was fortunate that the two Heads had been watching this entire scene, for they now took out their wands and approached the two Italians slowly and cautiously.

"I wouldn't advise that if I were you, Giacomo."

The older wizard whirled around, clearly startled at the appearance of his supposed relative and the bushy-haired girl from earlier. His anger did not subside for long though, and soon enough his own wand was pointing in their direction. Cassiopeia stood nearby, oblivious and confused even though she did recognize the girl.

"What's going on, Giacomo?" she questioned him.

"It's them! These two have been trying to mess up my plans all night, and I've had about enough of them!" he shouted as the three started circling each other.

"Mess up your plans?" Draco countered. "Wasn't it I who encouraged you to apologize to your lady in the first place? Wasn't it I who helped you see the error of your ways?"

"Yeah, and wasn't it I who pushed you to go after him, Cassiopeia?" Hermione chimed in. "I'll admit, I told you he was engaged just to make you jealous and help you discover that you still loved him, which you did. How exactly did that ruin your plans?"

Giacomo stopped circling them now and glanced back and forth between the two of them, but his gaze finally rested on Cassiopeia as he lowered his wand.

"Is it true? Do you love me?" Giacomo said quietly, almost as if saying it too loud would jinx it.

She nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered fervently. "Yes, I do."

After a brief moment of silence in which the Italians stared at each other and the students watched them, Giacomo dropped his wand and ran to Cassiopeia, enveloping her in an embrace. He lifted her off the ground and twirled her around in joy, and only when her feet touched back down did he kiss her, long and passionately. The tears of sorrow that had clouded Cassiopeia's eyes only moments ago now turned into tears of happiness.

And it was at that precise moment that Draco and Hermione felt the jinx break.


	14. Finally Free…?

It was as if all of the tension of a coiled spring had just been released, but neither of them had realized how tightly it had been wound up until now. Draco stumbled backwards at the same time that Hermione tumbled to the ground, slamming her elbows hard on the stone pavers.

After regaining his balance, Draco rushed over to help Hermione up. She brushed herself off, wincing in pain as she rubbed over her elbows, once of which had stained her robes with oozing blood. The Italian wizards to their right were blissfully unaware of what was occurring beside them; it seemed that they wouldn't be surfacing from their embrace anytime soon.

"What…what happened?" Hermione questioned, looking around them in confusion. Her gaze landed on Draco finally, whose eyes had not wavered from her face for even a moment.

"It's over," he stated in awe, a smile slowly appearing on his face. "Hermione, the jinx is gone! We're free!"

Hermione didn't appear convinced right away. "But how can you be so sure? I mean, that could have been anything, or—or…" She trailed away uncertainly as Draco's eyebrows rose.

"Let's test it, shall we?" He smirked as he began to back away from her slowly, taking each step with calculated deliberation as he watched her. She understood his intentions a second later.

"Oh! But what if it's not broken, what if it hurts, what if—"

"Hermione."

She stopped midsentence and looked up at Draco, who was now a good ten feet away from where she stood. His grey eyes shone in the moonlight as he stared right into her chocolate-brown frightened ones.

"Trust me." He gestured for her to take the next step backwards, a step that meant she believed him.

It took only a moment of hesitation before her foot hit the ground and the other one followed. Hermione's eyes were glued shut in anticipation of the extreme pain she knew would come if the jinx had not broken, but it never did. She stopped for a second, thinking, deliberating. _Could this be real?_ She thought to herself._Could we really have done it? Wait…do I feel that pull, that desire to have Malfoy? No…no I don't think I do! At least, it doesn't feel like my body is being invaded anymore!_

Hermione opened her eyes to find Draco smiling happily at her, which she returned with a bright grin of her own. She rushed to him in joy and crushed him in a hug, something Draco was sure he would never get used to no matter how many times she did it. _And it's not because I don't like it_, he realized, surprising himself.

"Oh, Malfoy, we did it! We broke the jinx!" she exclaimed, pulling back to see his reaction.

"I know!" he agreed heartily. "I have to admit, I didn't think we could do it. Giacomo seemed too…Malfoy-ish at first."

Hermione was already shaking her head in disagreement before he finished his sentence. "I knew we could do it if we worked together. My brains and your brawn? A perfect combination!" She laughed at this and Draco joined in with a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, because _my_ invaluable intelligence made no contribution whatsoever," he joked.

Hermione suddenly became serious, biting her lip in thought. "You…you really were brilliant, Malfoy."

She couldn't be sure, but for a moment it looked like he was blushing. The next second, though, it was gone, replaced by his usual playful smirk.

"Malfoy, is it? I thought we had gotten past last names, Granger."

"Oh, have we?" she joked along. "Well then, Draco."

"Yes, Hermione?"

Both of them sat in silence for a minute, absorbing the change and the reality it brought alongside it. Hermione finally broke the silence by asking what they were both pondering.

"So…does this mean we're friends now?" _Or more?_ She added inside her head.

Draco took a deep breath before answering, steadying himself. "Well, yes, I think we just might be."

To his surprise, a hurt expression passed over Hermione's face for a fraction of a second, but before Draco could think on it longer she was smiling again, albeit not as brightly. _I thought she wanted to be friends? _He thought_. Why does she seem…disappointed?_

She stepped forward and stuck out her hand the way friends might do before departing from one another.

"Friends."

Cautiously, Draco met her in the middle and took her hand in his, turning it over so that he was cradling it. Then, slowly, he lowered his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it, causing a small gasp to escape Hermione's mouth and goosebumps to run up her arm.

He looked up into her eyes as he replied, "Friends."

"So, are you two in love as well, then?"

They were suddenly yanked back into the real word as they turned to see Giacomo and Cassiopeia walking towards them, his arm tightly wound around her waist.

Hermione glanced at Draco, clearly as unsure of what to say as he was. Just as he opened his mouth to answer, she cut him off.

"Friends! We're just friends, that's all," she said, making sure not to look anywhere near Draco. She did not want to see his expression, and she could feel him looking at her. _Don't cry, Hermione, don't cry_, she thought determinedly. _You're friends, that's good! It's what you want._ _He never said he wanted anything more, remember? It was just a silly jinx. It was never real._

Giacomo frowned in disapproval. "But I could have sworn you told me you were! Oh wait, that was just the jin—" He stopped short with widened eyes and glanced at Cassiopeia to make sure she hadn't caught on to anything. When she only smiled at him, he continued.

"Right, well. That's all taken care of, now isn't it? You're happy, we're happy, everyone's happy!"

"Yes, well, we really should be going now, it's getting late," Hermione said abruptly. Draco was still watching her, and he knew by her tone that she was anything but happy.

"Wait," Cassiopeia spoke up. "Before you leave, we wanted to thank you both for helping us. If it weren't for you, we never would have learned to overcome our pride and stubbornness, and we never would have ended up together and in love. We are so grateful."

Giacomo was nodding his head vigorously in agreement. "This is true! You two are our guardian angels. I thank you."

Hermione only gave a tight smile in return that didn't quite reach her eyes while Draco replied.

"It's _you_ we should thank, Giacomo," he said with emphasis. The older Malfoy gave him a wink to show he understood his meaning. "Hermione and I wish you both the best, but she is right, we must be going now."

"Farewell, angels in disguise!" Giacomo exclaimed as they began to walk towards the outskirts of town.

Cassiopeia waved and blew them kisses, but neither of them saw. Hermione was marching determinedly back towards the Malfoy house while Draco struggled to match her stride (which was saying something due to their height difference).

"Hermione, hold up a second!" he finally yelled when they were well out of earshot of the Italian wizard and witch. He glanced over his shoulder just to make sure and saw them walking back towards the town hall, still holding on to each other. When he faced forwards once more, he almost ran straight into Hermione, who was now standing directly in front of him.

"Oi! What's wrong with you, eh?" he questioned.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just going back to get Hanky," she answered coldly.

"Hanky? Who's Han—wait, the _house elf_? You're still worried about that thing?" Draco said in surprise.

"That '_thing_'? He is a living creature, Draco! He deserves to be treated with respect just like any other being! He deserves to be loved and cherished and taken care of! I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing when there could be someone out there who will love him, and he just doesn't know it yet!" she cried indignantly as she paced around.

Taken aback by her sudden outburst, Draco remained silent until she calmed down enough to look at him.

"What was that—?"

"It's nothing, ok?!" Hermione spat, tears clouding her eyes. She turned around and began walking again. "Just forget it. Let's go get Hanky."

Draco quickly grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"And what exactly do you propose we do, eh? Just snatch Hanky from the house and whisk him away? You know the laws they abide by, he won't let himself leave, he'll punish himself!" he reminded her.

"I don't care! I have to try!" she shouted angrily, the tears starting to spill from her eyes as she pulled away. Once again he had to struggle to keep up with her fast stride as she took off.

"Hermione, what is really going on here? This isn't about a house elf, we both know that," said Draco.

"Of course it is, that's what I said, isn't it?" she snapped.

"Oh, don't insult my intelligence!"

Hermione stopped mid-stride and about-faced so she was nose to nose with the Slytherin. "_Insult your intelligence_! I'm sorry but you don't seem that _intelligent_ to me at the moment!"

Draco's eyes burned with anger and confusion as she stared at her.

"And why is that?"

"Because, you prick, you—you, well you still can't see beyond your past, that's why! Even after everything you said to Giacomo, you still can't manage to do it yourself, can you?"

"What are you talking about? I apologized to you, didn't I! I said I was sorry!"

"Actions speak louder than words, Malfoy, and yours aren't saying a lot!"

"Oh, do they? I'll have you remember _I saved your life_! I thought we were friends now, what happened to that, huh?"

Hermione's retaliation died on her lips. She stared at Draco then, seeing his anger and feeling guilty and stupid all at once. _You foolish girl_, she thought in embarrassment, _He doesn't love you. He finds you his equal, that's all. You aren't a Mudblood anymore, but that's as far as it goes._ _You have to stop thinking that jinx was real!_

"We _are_ friends," said Hermione, quietly now. "I'm sorry, I just thought—never mind, it doesn't matter. Yes, just friends, that's us!" She smiled bitterly at the ground and forced out a laugh.

Draco's eyes were still full of confusion when she looked into them again, but she could also tell he was feeling sorry for her. If he knew what she had been thinking was unclear, but either way she didn't want his pity. Hermione took and deep breath and let it out, wiped her eyes dry, and turned back towards the Malfoy house.

"So, shall we go get Hanky now?"

"Hermione…" said Draco, his voice soft and apologetic. He reached out a hand towards her shoulder and let it hover there for a moment.

"Yes? Are you ready? We have to figure out a way to get him out of there…" she rattled on, trying to avoid his gaze that was riveted on her.

Draco decided now was not the time to continue this particular conversation. After all, she clearly wasn't going to get into it again, and they still had the huge problem of dealing with his father at some point. He sighed and let his hand drop back to his side. "Let's go."

Sooner than he would have liked, they were at the house again. Draco had spent the entire walk without talking, mainly because he was so busy thinking about what had just transpired. It seemed like Hermione might be in…love with him? But no, that couldn't be possible. Maybe have feelings for him, but not love him. Perhaps she was just confused because they were both so used to the feelings the jinx elicited in them; Draco felt quite the same. He expected them to pop up and when they didn't he felt…well, if he was honest, a bit disappointed. Did that mean he loved her? He wasn't quite sure. No, he didn't feel that animal desire to have her anymore, but there was still _something_ there, he could feel that. Didn't Hermione understand that when he kissed her hand? Did that not have any meaning for her?

_Women are SO CONFUSING! _Draco grumbled inside his head as Hermione approached the front door. _Why can't they just come out and say what they are thinking? It would make my life a whole lot easier, that's for sure._

"Hanky?" Hermione tentatively called as she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Draco followed after and shut them inside, once again looking around the house for the little elf that had saved them.

There was a loud crack and Hanky appeared in front of them. "Did Miss Granger call Hanky?" he asked politely.

She smiled at him and replied, "Yes, I did. I…well, I was wondering if there was some way you could be freed from your master. I just wanted to see if I could help since you saved us."

Hanky's eyes became glassy with tears. "T-the missus w-wants to-to _free_ Hanky? Oh no, Hanky can't do that, Miss Granger, his master would be most furious, he would!"

"It's ok, Hanky, Draco here can free you, he's a Malfoy too," said Hermione soothingly. She looked up at Draco pleadingly. "Can't you?"

He had been staring at the elf without really seeing the scene in front of him, still thinking about what Hermione had said to him. Finally, though, he noticed her staring at him and focused on the worried Gryffindor.

"What?" said Draco. "You want _me_ to free him? Granger, what have you been smoking? I can't do that any more than you can, I'm not his master. I thought you knew how the rules worked?"

Hermione scowled loudly in frustration. "Of course I do! But you're a Malfoy, aren't you? Doesn't that count for anything? Please, Draco, you have to try, _please_!"

"Granger, I can't—"

"_Please_. Just try." Hermione gave him her best puppy-dog look.

Draco sighed, thinking to himself that this was going to be a complete waste of time, but wanting to please Hermione. He looked around and found a scarf lying on a nearby table, so he picked it up and handed it to Hanky.

At first, the elf just stared at him in disbelief and made no move to take the item of clothing. Hermione encouraged him though and Draco pushed the scarf into his hands, which he then took hold of at last.

Nothing happened. There was no magical noise or feeling, and the once hopeful anticipation Hermione had was quickly replaced by disappointment. Hanky, who had also been slightly optimistic, set the scarf back down on the table sullenly.

"T-thank you for t-t-trying Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger," said Hanky, his eyes still shiny with unshed tears.

Suddenly, the front doors burst open and two people backed into the foyer, entwined in each other's arms, kissing passionately. Hermione and Draco stood transfixed on the spot, hoping they wouldn't be noticed. Just as Hermione realized who it was, Giacomo surfaced from Cassiopeia's lips and saw them.

Anger bloomed onto his features. "You again! What are you doing in my house!?"

"Uh…we—I—" Hermione stammered, glancing at Draco for help.

"Giacomo, we are here to take the house elf, Hanky," said Draco importantly. There was no room for negotiation in his voice, but the other Malfoy didn't quite agree.

"Ha!" he barked. "That's absurd! Why in the world would I give you my house elf? He has been with my family for generations. Do not assume since you are kin you can just take him away, he serves _me_ and only me!"

"But what about me, darling?" Cassiopeia chimed in, her face showing signs of hurt. She stroked his arm lovingly and stared up at him with round eyes.

Giacomo's fierce expression softened instantaneously once he caught sight of his lady. "Of course, my dear, he will soon be your elf too once we are wed."

This seemed to satisfy her and she squeezed his hand, smiling. "Good…and the first thing I want to do with Hanky is give him to these two."

Shocked, Giacomo whipped his head back around to stare at her incredulously. "What do you mean, _give_him to them?! They have no claim!"

"But darling, they saved us from ourselves, they gave us the gift of finding our true love! We owe them something—the least we could do is give them Hanky if they desire him so ardently," Cassiopeia explained calmly. She looked over at the surprised Hogwart's students with a compassionate gaze, which they both returned readily with smiles of their own.

After a moment of thought, Giacomo let out a sigh of defeat, waving his hand through the air in a dismissive motion. "Very well, very well, you may take the elf! I suppose we do owe you lot something or other."

He snatched the discarded scarf off the ground and handed it to Hanky, who then happily accepted it with relish, doing a little dance of joy once he had acquired it.

"Hanky is free of Master Malfoy! Hanky is free!" he rejoiced with a skip and a hop.

Hermione beamed down upon him, looking much like a proud parent whose child just won an award. "Hanky, you can come with us now! You can live at Hogwarts and be happy with all the other elves, you'll see."

Hanky tentatively took her hand in his and looked up at her, a smile stretching from one of his bat-like ears to the other. "Thank you, Miss Granger, thank you," he said meaningfully. Then, turning to Draco he added, "And you, Mister Malfoy! You have done Hanky the greatest service. Hanky is forever in your debt!"

Draco had never been someone who was very fond of house elves, but this one managed to draw a smile out of him. "I would be honored, Hanky."

Hermione began to lead the elf out the front door, waving goodbye while Draco looked at the couple in front of them, arms around one another and happily content grins on their faces. He locked eyes with Giacomo and nodded once, which the other Malfoy returned. He wasn't exactly sure what was meant by it, or why he did it, but he knew in that moment that they had done the right thing, and perhaps…even changed history.

With the thud of three different sets of feet on pavement, the trio found themselves standing in Hogsmeade once again, the wind still whipping fiercely. It was the exact same time of day that they had left in, and in fact nothing seemed to have changed at all from when they left it all those hours ago.

Hermione pocketed the time turner in her robes, a sense of nostalgia coming over her already. Ever since Voldemort had been destroyed, she had missed the thrill and excitement of solving a mystery and the adventure that was encompassed. It was a bittersweet feeling that, yet again, another quest had come to a close with a happy ending. She glanced over at Draco to see him standing there, looking out into the distance with the same look on his face.

"Kind of sad that it's over, innit?" He suddenly said, finally turning his head towards her.

She smiled sadly and nodded her agreement. "You never realize how wonderful the journey is until it's over, it seems."

Draco laughed then, a deep, wonderful sound that came from within. Hermione looked confused for a moment at this real glimpse of the Slytherin King, but he shook his head in amusement.

"It's just that…I've never come to the end of one having done something _good_. Normally it ends and I couldn't be more relieved to have it behind me."

"But you _have_, Draco, you've saved my life." Hermione stepped closer to him so she could see straight into his eyes as she said this. "_You are good."_

No matter how hard he might have tried, Draco couldn't stop that single tear from falling. No one had ever told him he was good, besides Dumblebore that night on the Astronomy Tower, but even then it hadn't been in those exact words.

_You are good. You are good. You are good. _

_I am good._

Hermione swiped at his lone tear, Draco catching her wrist midair and holding it against his face. Her hand unfurled and lay tenderly across his cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, smelling the same scents that taunted him hours ago on the cliffside. Although he was more in control this time, they still caused him to go weak in the knees.

"Hermione, there's something I wanted to tell you—"

"Well, well, having quite a moment, aren't we, Draco?" an icy voice drawled as a figure came out of the shadows.

The two Heads faces registered shock at the same time, staring in disbelief at the person standing before them. Hermione cowered slightly behind Draco, who had instinctually pushed her behind himself.

"_What the bloody hell are you doing here_?" Draco growled, the noise almost guttural.

"Tut tut, Draco, that's no way to greet your father, is it?"


	15. Making the Choice

"I will greet you however I bloody please!" Draco snarled. His anger subsided momentarily as he realized their current location. "What are you even doing here? I thought you were in hiding?"

Lucius chuckled to himself, amused by his naïve son. "Well, you see, your little plan happened to work in my favor, so I no longer have to worry about being seen."

Draco's forehead crinkled. "What are you talking about?"

His father sighed and rolled his eyes, evidently already bored with the conversation. He started to circle the pair absentmindedly, although it disquieted Hermione considerably; she shrunk further behind Draco's back as he moved around them.

"When you two decided to travel to the past and destroy the jinx I placed on you, which by the way I did not appreciate, _I_ decided to follow you," Lucius explained, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expressions he was producing.

"I was curious to see how you were planning on convincing a Malfoy to be with a _Mudblood, _and of course I was ready to step in should anything happen that I did not approve of. Never did I think you would actually_succeed_! Many congratulations, my clever boy."

Draco's wary eyes were watching him as he continued to circle while his brain worked in overdrive to figure out what was happening. "I don't understand. How did our freedom secure yours as well? All we did was help two people in love realize it."

Lucius' sick smile twisted into a scowl of disapproval almost immediately. "It would seem I spoke too soon of your intelligence, which now I'm fully convinced you lack in every capacity."

The Slytherin's hands were balled tightly into fists at his sides, and it took everything inside of him to remain where he was. Ripping his father to pieces might sound like a nice idea in his mind, but he had Hermione to worry about protecting and there was no way he would fail her.

"You do realize that when you time travel and change things back then, you are simultaneously changing them here and now?" the senior Malfoy continued. He glanced at Hermione then. "I would have thought _you_would know better, Mudblood."

Draco looked down at her where she cowered behind him and saw raw fear in her eyes. He squeezed her hand and gave her a hard nod as if to say_, I believe in you. You're strong_. All at once, then, she drew herself up to full height, put on a brave face and stepped forward. Before she got anywhere, however, Draco's hand shot out and kept her back, which earned him a reproachful and confused look from his fellow Head. Oh, how he wished he could joke and argue with her at that moment. _Not the time, Draco_, he thought.

"Don't talk to him, Hermione. He'll only twist your words and poison your mind with lies," Draco ordered, shooting daggers at his father. He turned to him again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright, finish whatever nonsense you have to say. It's getting late."

Lucius curled his lip into a sneer and gave his son a look that would have chilled his bones at one time. His voice alone was pure ice.

"Of course. When you changed history and put Giacomo and Cassiopeia together, you forged a lasting peace between Malfoys and mudbloods. You and I are the only people in our family now who can remember the hatred that _should_ exist between the two, and that's only because you and I both traveled in time to see it happen." He glared at Hermione again, but she didn't shrink away this time.

"Now, my name is cleared once and for all. Everyone thinks I love Muggles and blood-traitors and never had anything to do with the Dark Lord. So, my little naïve son, I suppose I am in your debt for that."

Draco's mouth literally fell open upon hearing this last statement leave his father's mouth. Hermione looked over and waved her hands in front of his face, but to no use.

Lucius smirked at them. "Shocked, I see? Don't hold your breath quite yet, Draco. The only unfortunate part about this ordeal is the image I am now expected to uphold. People believe I tolerate Muggles and mudbloods, so now I am bound to live life as such. This is entirely _your_ fault."

"My fault!" Draco finally said, finding his voice once again. "I saved your sorry neck and you _blame_ me?!"

"Well, of course you idiot! You stole my life from me. I was perfectly content scheming and hating mudbloods all at the same time. Breaking my own self out of Azkaban was a sort of…challenge for me. I enjoyed the task as one might enjoy…oh, I don't know…knitting." Lucius sighed and gave a satisfied smile at the memory.

Hermione exchanged glances with Draco, both of them feeling as if this whole scenario was surreal.

Lucius' eyes darkened again. "You ruined that, Draco. You took the one thing in my life that made me happy, and now you are in _my_ debt."

"You really are a sick little man, father, did you know?" Draco replied sarcastically. It was his default mode, it seemed. "This is really something! I travel through time to remove an ancient jinx that my father put on me, then I end up changing history forever and saving my father's life in exile, and now he's…punishing me for it. Is that about right?"

"Ah, your intelligence has been redeemed, son," Lucius said, clapping his hands. "It pains me to dispose of you, but clearly your continued existence is not beneficial to me, nor is the existence of your little mudblood friend."

He removed the wand hidden in his walking cane and pointed it directly at Draco with no qualms, his eyes dark and serious now.

Draco's eyes, in contrast, were wide and shocked. He held up his hands in surrender, trying to buy them so more time.

"Father, what are you doing? I can help you live the lifestyle you want, just let me prove it. It wouldn't be hard to leave the country, create a new life somewhere else. Didn't you always say you wished you could live in our seaside mansion in Greece all the time?"

"Don't try to distract me, Draco!" Lucius shouted. "I am tired of picking up after your messy mistakes, especially when they ruin _my_ life! First you save that piece of filth Granger and completely obliterate my escape plans from Azkaban, and now this. You're a disgrace to the Malfoy name, and should therefore be obliterated yourself! _Avada K—_"

"_STUPEFY_!"

Lucius was suddenly blown backwards, falling with a loud and sickening thud on the stone walkway some ten feet away. Draco looked around in bewilderment, not having cast the spell himself, and spotted Hermione emerging from behind a nearby building, wand still pointed in the direction where his father now lay.

She looked over at him and they stared at one another for a moment before, with a grin and a shrug, Hermione said, "Well, someone had to save you."

The smile on Draco's face was one for the record books, and he enveloped Hermione in a hug to rival her own. Upon releasing her, he squeezed her hand and then let go to walk towards his father.

Draco looked at his face, half covered in snow and dirt and bleeding from his lip, and felt no remorse. This was a man who had never been a true father to him, but instead treated him like a slave and puppet. And yet, as he stood over him with his wand pointed at his heart, there was no hatred within him, only pity.

"Draco?" Hermione questioned, coming to stand by his side. "What's wrong?"

"He doesn't deserve death, Hermione. He deserves to be punished just like me. He deserves to live a life without love, without family. But you know what? I'm not like him anymore, no Malfoy is, and I made that happen. I won't start this new life like he ended his."

"What will you do with him?" she asked in confusion.

"I'm going to relieve his pain. I'm going to help him forget the wrong he's done," Draco replied decidedly.

He lifted his wand one last time and firmly said, "_Obliviate_."

Hermione held his hand as they watched the spell take affect, Lucius finally rousing from his unconsciousness. He looked around in confusion, then settled his gaze on the two teens standing in front of him.

"Hello there! Who are you?" he asked in the most congenial tone a Malfoy had ever used.

"Allow me to be of some assistance," a voice spoke up from behind them.

Turning, the two Heads saw an old man emerge from the Three Broomsticks, his long beard swaying in the wind and his half-moon spectacles fogging slightly in the chill.

"Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed in delight. "How did you—?"

He held up his hand with a smile and moved past them to the disoriented man still sitting in the snow.

"Need some assistance, Mr. Malfoy?" he said with an outstretched arm. Lucius took it and got to his feet easily, brushing snow from his robes as he surveyed the strangers around him.

"Mr. Malfoy? Is that my name?" he asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "You're name is Lucius Malfoy. You work at the Ministry of Magic. This is your son, Draco, and his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. She is Muggle-born. Does that bother you?"

Draco started to correct the old wizard, but his father interrupted him.

Lucius gave him a surprised look. "Why on earth would that bother me? My ancestors married Muggle-borns."

He looked at Hermione then and smiled as he leaned towards Draco's left ear, giving him a nudge in the ribs. "She's very pretty, son, good work!"

Draco gaped at him and exchanged the same look with his supposed "girlfriend." It was all he could do not to fall over on the spot.

Dumbledore then turned to him. "You do very good spellwork, Mister Mafloy. I think it would benefit us all to return to the castle now, don't you agree? I believe Lucius is in need of a hot drink."

Lucius lit up at this notion. "Indeed I am! A nice butterbeer ought to clear my head I think."

Hermione bit back the laugh that threatened to escape and noticed Draco was struggling to do the same. It was just too comical to see his father this way, especially when they all knew butterbeer would most certainly _not_ clear his head.

Dumbledore led the way back towards Hogwarts, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Lucius who was full of questions about everything. Meanwhile, the two Heads kept back a bit so they could talk.

"I…I noticed you didn't correct Dumbledore when he said I was your girlfriend," Hermione said quietly, trying hard not to betray her hopefulness.

Draco kept his eyes locked on his feet. "I, uh, I tried to, but Father cut me off. I'm sorry if it embarrassed you. I don't know why the old coot said that." He kicked at a piece of dirt idly, seemingly dejected.

She placed her hand on his arm then to get his attention. Hermione's chocolate eyes were swimming with emotion as she looked into his searching grey ones.

"It wouldn't embarrass me at all."

Draco swallowed. _What is she saying to me? Focus, Draco, focus. Is she saying what I think she's saying?_

"I—I…wanted to tell you earli—" he began haltingly.

"Hurry up, you two love birds!" came the sound of Lucius' voice from up ahead. He beckoned them to catch up impatiently. "You can chat all you want once we're inside in the warmth!"

Not knowing what or how he would give a decent reply to Hermione now, Draco darted off towards his father, leaving his fellow head puzzled and behind.

_What is your issue, Malfoy?_ He thought to himself in frustration._ Why can't you just tell her how you feel? Merlin's beard, I don't even know how I feel! I kept thinking I could never be with her because of my father and my past, but now that's all erased…nothing's standing in my way anymore. _

"Deep in thought, Mister Malfoy?" Dumbledore probed, falling into step beside the Slytherin. Draco glanced behind him to find Lucius chatting up a storm with Hermione, who was staring at him like his head had just transformed into that of an elephant. He chuckled a little at the image, sighed, and faced the Headmaster once again.

"Actually, yes. I'm in a little bit of a…well, I guess you would call it a—"

"Love bind?"

Draco's eyes flashed to his in less than a second. "Sir, do you…_remember_?"

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously and shrugged, then presented his left hand to the boy. A shiny gold ring resided on his left ring finger.

"You're married!" Draco exclaimed. "But how—?"

"Correction, I _was_ married. My lovely wife passed away some time ago." Some of the twinkle in his eyes dimmed as he began to explain his story.

"I know you cannot understand, Draco, but I remember what happened between you and Hermione; I remember the Love Bind and the reason I was involved with the jinx. Even the most powerful magic cannot change some memories, if one holds on to them hard enough. In this universe I was able to marry, and I loved her fervently. However, the same girl that I placed the Love Bind on in our old lives…well, I loved her still. When I saw her, I remembered. She didn't love me and nothing was to be done about it this time, so I moved on and found another. We all do at some point, move on that is. She was wonderful, and she made me happy enough. Five years ago she passed on peacefully in her sleep."

Dumbledore gazed off into space, absorbed in his own thoughts as quiet settled between them.

_We all do at some point, move on that is._ Draco kept hearing his voice repeat the same statement over and over again. _If I do nothing, will Hermione move on? Will she love someone else? _

"Sir," he began. "Do you regret it? Not giving it a chance with the girl you truly loved?"

"I would have risked it all for her, Mister Malfoy. The problem was she would not have done the same for me. Sometimes when you love someone, you have to put their desires above your own. I would not change the path I chose, and maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets."

"But you could have made her love you, right? You could have been with her," Draco countered. "Why would you give that up?"

"It is our choices that show what we truly are, Draco, far more than our abilities," Dumbledore replied in that soothing voice of his. He furrowed his brow then. "I've said that before, haven't I? I believe I have…how interesting."

The old wizard laughed to himself and strode ahead, apparently convinced their conversation was now over. Draco watched him in utter confusion.

"Crazy old coot," he whispered under his breath, a ghost of a smile playing upon his lips.

In another heartbeat they were back at Hogwarts, and Draco and Hermione were sent off to their dormitory while Dumbledore took Lucius to his office to pour him some butterbeer and "discuss things." The two Heads guessed he was going to help the confused senior Malfoy find his way in the world now that he was a changed man.

The walk to their common room was rather silent while both students tried to decipher what the other was thinking. Now that their jinx-connection was lost, both found it harder than ever to read the other. In a way, the root of all their problems had been comforting after a time because it masked the true emotions within them. With the Love Bind absent, all they felt was coming to the surface much too fast for their liking.

Once inside, Draco and Hermione collapsed in front of the roaring fireplace, physically and mentally exhausted from all that occurred in the last few hours. She looked at him with tired eyes.

"So, what now?"

Draco shook his head. "Normal life, I guess." He scoffed at himself then and added, "Well, as normal as it can be now that my father loves Muggles and doesn't want to do me in."

Hermione began to chuckle at this, and before they knew it, both were howling with laughter at the absurdity of everything that had happened. Watching him laugh and smile, Hermione just couldn't help but smile herself. Seeing the Prince of Slytherin happy was an oxymoron, a rarity, a novelty. She found herself getting lost in his eyes as they were suddenly staring back at her.

Draco took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and then began to speak.

"Someone once told me that it is our choices who make us who we truly are, far more than our abilities."

At his pause, he noticed Hermione was watching him intently, clearly anxious as to what he was about to say. This gave him courage, and he continued.

"Well, I can _do_ a lot of things. I can travel through time and change history, and make my entire family love Muggles…well, that was sort of an accident, but you get it. I can tell Giacomo to screw the Malfoys and be with Cassiopeia, I can stop calling you a Mudblood and treat you with respect, I can even save your life and defy my father."

Her eyes darted back and fourth between his own, searching for what he was thinking, trying to figure out where he was going with all this. Draco smiled at her studious attitude; some things would never change. He took another deep breath.

"But all of that means nothing if I can't make a choice. A choice I've been too afraid to make, a choice that I should have made a long time ago but kept denying it."

Draco got up from his chair and knelt beside Hermione, taking her hand in his. She gulped, her breathing rapid as she looked into his eyes.

"Hermione, I love you. I have loved you since the day you walked through that portrait hole and into this room. I've been trying to work up the courage to tell you ever since we left Greece. I don't care what people do or don't say, or even if you don't love me back, I just had to let you know. I am making this choice now so that I don't live in regret the rest of my life. And now that I've told you, its time for me to let you make your own choice. So, Hermione, what do you choose?"

Hermione smirked surprisingly, a playful look in her eyes. "What do I choose?" She stood up and began walking around him slowly, so Draco stood up, his gaze riveted on her.

"You see, there's this dream I've always had," she said, smirk still in place as she watched his curious expression. "And you were right, I _do_ enjoy being this close to you, so there's really only one thing left for you to do."

Hermione looped a finger through one of his belt loops and pulled him towards her abruptly until their bodies were touching. The typical Draco smirk finally appeared on his face and he slid his hands around her waist tightly.

"Well, you know I just want to make your dreams come true," he softly whispered in her ear. Soon his lips were level with hers.

Hermione giggled. "By all means."

Draco's lips found hers in another second and smoothly moved with hers, slowly at first to savor the moment, but building in intensity not long after. Their hands were in one another's hair, getting tangled but not seeming to care. In one swift movement, Draco picked Hermione up and carried her to the couch, setting her down so she was underneath him.

All at once it was like a fire had been lit between them, burning so ferociously that no one and nothing could put it out. All the tension and waiting had left them with so much built up passion that it all came pouring out at once. Again and again their lips crashed together, his parting her mouth to allow his tongue access when he couldn't stand it anymore. Their bodies moved against one another heatedly, pressed together tightly as if they could not bear to be separated.

"Hermione," Draco rasped, nibbling on her ear and running his fingers through her hair.

She arched her body against him, loving every second that he had his hands on her. He pulled her face away from his for a second, looking at her questioningly.

"You never told me how you felt, you know."

"Draco," she responded, barely getting it out because the rest of her was so preoccupied. She cleared her throat and laughed. "Who knew you were such a romantic."

She saw him blush a little even though he tried to hide it.

"Of course not! I'm still a Malfoy. I just wanted to know if…well…"

"If I love you back?"

He stared into her eyes then, the way he had been for a few hours now, how he had wanted to since he knew he loved her, and she almost melted at the sight of it. Smiling, she reached up and pushed a piece of his hair back from his face where it fell into his eyes.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy, and always will."

She was wrong before about his smile being for the record books; this one clearly outshone it. Thinking back on this moment, she would recall how his joy was so palpable she could feel it running through her veins.

Hermione pulled his lips back to hers, words no longer necessary to convey their feelings to one another. This is what she had wanted all along, but was too stubborn and prideful to realize it. All those days they spent together, reading, studying, tutoring…she knew. She always knew. The jinx had just messed everything else up at the precise moment she should have been discovering her love for him. Hermione smiled at this errant thought and tugged on the collar of Draco's shirt, pulling him closer to her.

"Say it again," she murmured beneath his lips.

"I love you," Draco responded immediately, his grin parting their mouths momentarily. He stared deeply into her eyes. "I love you a thousands times over."

"I love you, too, a million times over," she said back.

Draco chuckled and tweaked her nose. "Always have to beat me, don't you?"

The devilish smile on her lips caused him to pause.

"No, I just like to come out on top." And with that she grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over, her knees straddling his waist.

That was all the encouragement Draco needed, for his mouth instantly found hers once again, and his hands slid up and down her body searchingly, wanting all of her under his fingertips at the same time.

It wasn't long before Hermione had to stop him from moving too fast. She rested her head on his shoulder, lying comfortably in the crook beneath his arm as the fire warmed them. It was in this position, utterly and blissfully content, that the once-enemies fell asleep, their hearts beating as one while they dreamt.


	16. Epilogue: The Last Piece of the Puzzle

"I'm sorry, _what_? Did you just say what I think you said?" Ron said, his voice bordering on slightly hysterical.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked to Harry and Ginny for some help; she knew breaking the news to Ron would be the hardest of the three.

Ginny piped up then, seeing her friend's distress. "Ron, calm down, it's a _wedding_, not the return of the Dark Lord!"

"It might as well be! Marrying _Draco Malfoy_? Hermione, you've finally gone off your rocker!" he exclaimed, getting up from his seat in the Head's common room to pace around.

Even though her friends actually liked Draco in this new universe, it was clear that Ron was still as much in love with Hermione as he had been before. The idea of her marrying Draco, which was surprising to Harry and Ginny but ultimately accepted with enthusiasm, didn't sit well with Ron, old universe or new.

Hermione reached out to touch his arm as he passed by her, and he stopped his pacing to look at her. Ron could see in her eyes that this was serious, and that she wanted his support—no, _needed_ it. So many times he had been angry with her because some other guy was in _his_ rightful place by her side. So many times he had yelled and argued with her about her decisions regarding her heart. It wasn't until now that he realized how selfish he had been, and still was. If Hermione loved Draco half as much as Ron loved her, then who was he to stand in the way of her happiness?

His resolve to hate the whole situation deflated all at once, and he slumped down into the chair next to her with his head hung low.

"Are you really that upset, Ron?" Hermione questioned softly, pain touching the edge of her voice.

He shook his head and finally lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. Ron gave a big sigh.

"I'm sorry I'm such a prick. I should be happy for you—I _am_ happy for you. You know I will always love you, Hermione, no matter what form that takes."

Moisture pooled in her eyes and she frantically blinked back her tears, throwing herself at Ron and enveloping him in a hug. He held her like that for what seemed like forever, memorizing how she felt in his arms, thinking that he would never know what it was like to be more than her friend. It was the first time, he noted, that he felt at peace with it.

Hermione kissed his cheek, then leaned back in her chair and wiped at her teary eyes.

"Thank you."

Ginny grinned at them, clasping her hands together in excitement. "Well, now that that's settled, its time to plan a wedding!"

"Did I hear something about planning a wedding?"

Hermione's pulse picked up considerably upon hearing that smooth, spellbinding voice from behind her. She turned to see Draco waltz into the room, coming up behind her seat to rest his hands on her delicate shoulders. The heat from them warmed her and she melted into his touch, leaning her head back to smile up at him.

Draco grinned down at her. "Hey, Granger." He placed a light kiss on her forehead and glanced up to see three pairs of eyes watching them. Well, more specifically, him.

"What?" he snapped indignantly. Hermione squeezed his hand hard, reminding him to be nice. Old habits died hard. Draco cleared his throat and tried again. "Er—what are you lot looking at?"

"Sorry mate, its still a little…odd to see you two together, that's all," Harry replied warily.

Hermione sighed to herself. Things between her friends and her fiancé were strained, to put it mildly. Ever since they had returned from their "trip," she never could quite understand how they all felt about Draco. His family didn't hate Muggles anymore, but to Harry, Ginny, and Ron, they never had. To them, he wasn't a friend exactly, but he wasn't an enemy either—just an acquaintance they saw around school, who occasionally was rude and judgmental. This was especially confusing for Draco, who still thought of them as "The Golden Trio" and had to bite his tongue more than once when the opportunity to make fun of them arose. When he forgot himself, they didn't understand why Draco was being mean, and Hermione was almost afraid that their mutual hatred would resurface if things kept progressing in that manner. Thus, from time to time she had to remind Draco that he was supposed to be their friend now.

Draco nodded, agreeing. "You know something, Potter, it's a bit odd for me too. But it's a good odd."

Hermione glanced up at him again and added, "The best kind of odd."

They shared a smile and he leaned down to give her a proper kiss. Their audience didn't enjoy the show all that much.

"Comon, get a room why don't you!" Ginny playfully exclaimed, getting up from the couch to head out. Ron was already waiting at the door; he had done enough self-sacrificing in one day and wasn't keen on watching the girl he loved fraternizing with someone else. He smiled sadly at Hermione and waved goodbye, which she returned with the same pained expression. Ginny pulled him out the portrait hole then and left it open for Harry to follow.

"Well," Harry began with a sense of finality as he got up, "I never thought the day would come when you would actually get married, Hermione, but I guess if it has to, Draco is the best man for the job."

Draco's eyebrows rose incredulously._ Never thought I'd hear Potty say _that_._

"Thank you, Harry, that means a lot," Hermione replied, genuinely touched.

He gave a nod and a smile, then quickly followed after Ginny and her brother, closing the portrait hole behind him.

Draco sighed and sat down across from Hermione, keeping hold of her hand as he did so. He made small circles on the back of it with his thumb, something Hermione had found extremely soothing as of late. Planning a wedding for right after graduation, and everything that came with it, was stressful enough without the added pressure of having her family and friends accept her chosen fiancé. The Grangers were shocked about the engagement due to the fact that they had no idea Hermione was even dating anyone. Technically, she had told them, they never really were dating, at least not for long. It took a few family dinners and a very chivalrous and charming Draco to bring them around, but eventually they grew accustomed to the idea.

Harry and Ginny had been a bit easier, if you forgot that Harry had hexed Draco when they told him because he thought he had "done" something to Hermione. At times she admired Harry's loyalty to her, and in truth Draco was basically a stranger to them, but other times she just wished he would be more trusting. Once she calmed him down enough to lower his wand, she explained that she was choosing this of her own free will. In typical Harry fashion, Ginny was the one who eventually convinced him it wasn't the worst idea in the world. Finally, though, the last hurdle had been overcome by talking with Ron, and she felt like she could breathe again.

The Malfoys were another matter; they accepted Hermione immediately, and most shocking of all, absolutely _adored_ her. Narcissa was thrilled that she was getting a new daughter-in-law and was constantly pestering—er, contributing to every little detail of the wedding. Hermione still hadn't gotten used to having a normal conversation with her, not to mention Lucius. Every time she did, she half expected both of them to snap and _Avada Kadavra_ her into nonexistence. It took some getting used to.

On the other side of things, Draco was still struggling not to hate her friends with every move they made. Just as it took a long time to accept Hermione was more than her past and parentage, it was taking a while to think of the two Weasleys and Potter as actual people instead of cockroaches he'd like to stomp on. He was trying though, and Hermione appreciated the effort.

"So, how are your parents these days?" she questioned him casually.

Draco scoffed, "You probably know more than me, Mother is owling you every second with new wedding ideas."

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "I meant your Father, how is he getting along? His memory hasn't come back or anything, right?"

"Hermione, you _doubt_ my magical capabilities?" he feigned a hurt expression and clutched the fabric of his shirt where it rested over his heart. Smiling, he continued. "No, he's been quite well, actually. I think coming home to Mother helped a lot since she was already affected by the 'change.' They're happier than I can ever remember them being, and as far as I know, they never had any involvement with the Dark Lord."

Hermione pondered a moment. "I'm curious, Draco—your mother wasn't always a Malfoy, she grew up a Black. That family hasn't changed its history, so why does your mother love Muggle-borns and Half-bloods?"

"I asked her that, or something similar, last time I saw her; asked her why she was so tolerant of your blood history." He gave Hermione a look then, one that seemed to indicate he meant no offense. She smiled back, encouraging him to finish.

"She was raised to hate them, just like all the other Blacks. Bellatrix is no different today than she was before, but I think Mother was always averse to the belief that pure blood was better. When she met Father that just solidified and made it stronger. She said it created a rift between her and the Blacks, and she hasn't spoken to Bellatrix in years."

Hermione smiled, proud of her new mother-in-law. It made her happy to think that Narcissa had her own mind, her own thoughts. Even before she met Lucius, she always believed her family was wrong. In some twisted way, the entire ordeal her and Draco had gone through had been worth it. She could see how relieved and happy her fiancé was now; all the weight from years and years of pain and torment had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

It came at the perfect time, too, just before final exams started. Draco couldn't care less about N.E.W.T.S., but he knew Hermione was dedicated to making sure he graduated with some semblance of good marks. So, along with the overwhelming wedding planning, she was also tutoring him and studying for her own exams. He had never admired her more, or been more grateful for her tireless work ethic. More than once he had found himself thinking she would turn into a wonderful mother because of this trait. When his mind took him down this path, he would simultaneously wonder how he had gotten so lucky.

Of course, they did have some help; whenever there was something Hermione needed to research for the wedding or exams, her trusty book Twink would be put to good use. Twink was happier than ever that the two of them were getting married, and would constantly spout off advice to Hermione and Draco any chance she got. When asked how she would know anything about being married, she would answer, "I read it in a book somewhere." Hermione needed no further convincing. She was unaware, however, of the fact that Draco sometimes put a charm on Twink to shut her up for the day—one woman was enough for him.

At the times when Twink wasn't around, Hanky could be found by Hermione's side. It seemed the lucky little elf couldn't get enough of the girl who saved him, and he strove to show his gratitude at every turn. If Hermione or Draco ever needed anything, he would bend over backwards to make sure they got it, even though the Head Girl told him countless times not to bother himself. The new couple had finally decided to adopt Hanky, in a way, instead of employing him. He wouldn't be forced to serve them (even though he claimed to enjoy it), but always had a place to stay at their house if he wanted. Draco wasn't overly fond of house elves as his entire life he had been taught to kick them around, but he would do anything to make Hermione smile. Besides that, he was actually starting to like this one and wanted to repay him for saving_their_ lives back in Greece.

Everything was coming together—the wedding was just around the corner, Hermione and Draco's friends and family had accepted them both into their respective folds, and the two former Heads couldn't be happier together.

The night before their wedding, Hermione and Draco were lounging together on the couch in the common room, enjoying one night of peace before the chaos of the morning ensued. They had graduated a few days ago, but had been given leave to stay the extra time in their common room since their ceremony was being held at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't want this at first, but it was truly the only home Draco had ever known growing up, and she couldn't take that away from him. The more she thought about it, Hogwarts was her home as well. So many memories had been made within the walls and, now that they had graduated, it felt wrong to have the wedding anywhere else when they would soon take their last steps in these hallowed halls.

She was tucked under his arm, her head resting on his chest comfortably, watching it rise and fall with each breath. They had been lying in silence for a while, not feeling the need to speak but instead savoring the easy quiet.

Draco was twirling a piece of her chocolate-colored hair around his finger, lost in thought, when Hermione gave a large sigh.

"What's that for, huh? Shouldn't you be ecstatic about marrying someone as devilishly good-looking as me?" Draco said, smirking. He could feel Hermione roll her eyes as she poked him in the ribs.

"Of course I'm happy. I'm just thinking about last summer. I guess that's kind of where this all started, isn't it?" she replied.

The summer used to be a bitter memory for the both of them, but Hermione was right—that was where it all began.

"I always wonder what would have happened if you had never saved me."

Draco chuckled at her. "Well, you would be dead if I hadn't saved you, love. Dear ole' dad was about to do you in."

"No! I mean what would have happened if I had never been there, I guess. How things would be different, or if we would have wound up in the same place," she corrected quickly, not wanting to think about the whole "I almost died" part of that ordeal.

He was still smiling as he answered her. "Seeing as you can't keep your nose out of other people's business, I doubt that scenario would have ever happened, no matter what universe we were in."

"Ha ha, very funny," she chided playfully. He placed a kiss on her forehead in way of apology, although laughter was still shaking his body.

"To answer you seriously, though," Draco started, his mirth subsiding. "I know I never like to talk about that whole adventure, but in all honesty it's the best thing that has ever happened to me. And, while I'm being honest, I have to admit that I became slightly obsessed with that summer. It was when I think my feelings for you started forming, showing up in my dreams and tormenting me because I couldn't have you. I thought about it, and you, endlessly. I am in debt to that summer for everything I have now. If it hadn't happened…I think you would still be in my arms right now, ready to be my wife tomorrow. My feelings for you were always under the surface, it just took one singular moment to bring them out—the moment I thought I would lose you if I didn't stop him from killing you."

Hermione leaned up on her elbow and met Draco's waiting lips, melting into him effortlessly, as if they had been kissing each other for years. It was something she was sure, no matter how many times it happened, would never get old. She pulled away from him and nestled back into his side contentedly.

"Draco?"

He stroked her hair absentmindedly. "Hm?"

"I was just wondering, I mean, I know its not really relevant anymore, but I'm curious…what exactly was your father planning? Do you know?" she questioned hesitantly. He could sense her holding her breath in anticipation of his answer. Draco gave a large sigh.

"He had someone else in Azkaban in his place, taking polyjuice potion regularly to appear as him. Meanwhile, he was trying to devise a plan to actually break himself out for good so he wouldn't have to worry about being seen in public. He stayed in the manor most of the time. You got dragged into it because of what you saw last summer—it was his first attempt at breaking out, which we effectively thwarted. After that he had to keep a close watch on you to make sure you kept quiet, thus the Love Bind. I suppose he thought if we were always forced to be together, you couldn't 'spill the beans,' if you will. He also…well, I think he also wanted you to fall in love with me."

"What?" Hermione interrupted in surprise. "Why on earth would _he_ want that?"

"Two reasons. One, if you loved me you would never betray me, or my family. Two, if I ended up loving you in return, our family would appear friendly with Muggle-borns without my Father having to actually interact with them. You saw what he thought about that," he answered, a sneer on his face.

Hermione caressed his cheek, causing the nasty expression to be replaced by a grin in her direction. He loved that she could calm him so easily.

"And, while I'm airing out all my Father's dirty laundry, you ought to know McGonagall was Imperiused for most of first term."

Hermione's eyes went wide as saucers. "What!? Professor McGonagall? But—but, how—? Why?"

"Just another way of keeping tabs. He did it before school started…didn't you notice how odd she was acting? All happy-go-lucky and bouncing about? She rode on the train to watch you."

She sat back in astonishment, fitting all the pieces together in her head.

"Huh. What do you know."

"While we're discussing secrets, anything else you want to know? Or better yet, anything you want to tell _me_?" He smirked down at her. "Any naughty dreams, Miss Granger?"

"No!" she exclaimed, heat flooding her cheeks and turning them red. Draco nuzzled into her neck, causing her blush to spread even further.

"You know, you need to get used to the idea, Future Mrs. Malfoy," he half-whispered in her ear. Her heartbeat picked up.

"W-what?" she stuttered.

"We will be man and wife tomorrow night, and I'm taking you somewhere pretty romantic for our honeymoon," Draco replied in a husky voice. It dropped to an even lower octave, if that was possible. "I hope you're ready."

She knew he was serious, but Hermione also knew she would act the innocent until that time actually came. After that, it was _him_ who needed to be ready.

He kissed her then, enveloping her lips in his own, tasting the slightly sweet remnants from the dessert they'd shared after dinner. He was in heaven when he was with Hermione; nothing and no one could be better.

Draco leaned back and rested his head on the couch, holding Hermione tightly and thinking about all he had to be thankful for in his life—his newly adoring parents who actually cared whether he lived or died, his amazing new wife that he loved with every fiber of his being, and the weight of imminent death lifted from his shoulders. He would never have to worry about being killed in his sleep, or about protecting Hermione after they were married. For the first time since he could remember, he was utterly and indescribably happy. In fact, he was a little obsessed with it. In Draco's mind, if that was wrong, then he didn't want to be right. For once.


End file.
